matty

She has been in relationships before where her eating habits were an issue. She enjoyed the sweets and occasional junk food but she made sure to balance it out with healthy options. Her exes made her feel that healthy foods were the only option. She didn't think Eddie would be like that, as she'd seen him eat handfuls of chips and drink beer like there was no tomorrow, he didn't seem to be the kind to care at all but she couldn't help the anxiety.

"Sure, let's go," she said through her clenched teeth. She tried to calm herself as they made the trip to the grocery store.

~

With half the cart filled with Eddie's idea of groceries, and actual ingredients. She made sure to add fruits and vegetables because Eddie only added junk food. Not that she judged, but she didn't want all the temptations.

"I forgot the dip. Be right back," Eddie said. Y/N nodded as he left the aisle. She walked down further and noticed her favorite dessert, cinnamon buns.

She stood in front of the boxes for a second, debating it in her head. She chewed on her bottom lip, reaching out but pulling away in the same movement.

"Baby, if you want it, we can get it," Eddie's voice appeared as he dropped the small jar of dip in the cart. She shook herself out of the small trance.

"Oh! No, I'm fine. We've got enough food for weeks. Let's go get a salad and check out," she said as she pushed the cart and left the aisle in a hurry.

Eddie looked after her confused, not sure what the big deal was. He shrugged and grabbed the box. One more item wasn't going to kill them. He kept them behind his back as they checked out, secretly putting them on the belt to be scanned. She wasn't paying attention as she placed the bags in the cart.

Y/N felt relieved she survived the trip, but couldn't help but stress over all the future trips. She was glad Eddie didn't question too much about the cinnamon buns.

They arrived home and began putting the groceries away. They made small conversation, Y/N halting when she noticed a familiar box. She reached for it, pulling it out of the bag.

"Did you grab these?" She questioned as she held up the cinnamon buns.

Eddie looked up, "Yeah, seeing them reminded me how much I love them." He shrugged like it wasn't a big deal. She wasn't sure she believed him but she appreciated his effort. "I'm starving, how about we have one quick?"

"We?" She asked

"Yeah, I want to enjoy my favorite dessert with my favorite girl. Come on," he said as he took the box from her hands and grabbed two buns.

She knew there was no point in fighting against him. He was a very stubborn person. It made her take in the new outcome of the situation. She was used to being judged and advised to eat something healthier, and here Eddie was asking to eat it together so she knew it wasn't a bad thing.

She smiled and agreed. They made their way to the small dining table, clearing off a spot.

"To our new home with all our favorite snacks and no judgement about what they are!" he said as he held up his bun. Y/N laughed but picked her bun up to the toast.

"To our new home with our favorite snacks."

She felt loved by him in that moment and knew she was with the right guy. He smiled as he watched her enjoy the snack, admiring how beautiful she looked.

“Fuck, Eddie.”, you whimper, clinging to the arms wrapped around you as the gangster steadily rolled his hips behind you, kissing your shoulder as he pulled you closer to his chest. 

It had been a couple of days since your former best friend defended you against an intruder before you both admitted your feelings. Because he was afraid the detective would try to send another person to your house, he offered for you to stay with him “Where I can keep an eye on you” and make sure you were safe. 

With the days that past, you would barely be able to tell that any time, let alone five years had been lost between you two. You spent the evenings with him listening to music, watching old movies, and talking about everything you could think of under a cloud of weed from a joint you both shared. 

You brought him to your little convenience store and showed him around, half expecting him to be bored out of his mind until he began hurling questions your way. 

“Is that girl the only person who works here when you don’t?”

“You don’t know?”, you tease, raising an inquisitive eyebrow his way before focusing on your computer in front of you. 

“I only watched you, baby.”, he chuckles, flashing you all his teeth. 

“Dork. Um, it’s her and then another young man who helps me. I hired these kids because they need the income. Carter’s dad left when he was a boy so he helps take care of his siblings and Marie is saving to go back to school to get her doctorate. Here husband helps watch the kids and stuff.”

The chair he had been sitting in squeaks as it skids across the floor and when you turn to face him again, his nose is inches from yours. 

“You’re a really good person, you know that? Always were.”, Eddie murmurs, his hand reaching up to move some of your hair behind your ear as you lean forward to softly kiss his lips. Chocolate irises maneuver down your face, making you blush a bit at the intensity. 

“Now…what are you doing here?”, the gangster asks, laying his head on your shoulder to face your computer screen. 

Yesterday before the club opened, he showed you around and introduced you to some of the people in his crew including a couple you recognized having gone to school with them. 

“Jeff runs the bar for me.”

“Of course, I know Jeff. Hey, handsome.”, you beam his way, the boy grinning when Eddie jokingly roles his eyes. 

“Hey, Y/N. Long time no see. We’ve definitely heard your name a bunch. Munson doesn’t shut up about you—”

“Alright, that’s enough of that.”, the man jests, lightly tugging on your hand to guide you to the young lady who brought you up to his apartment the last morning you had come by. “This is Juliet. She’s my manager slash hostess of the club and makes sure things run fairly smoothly.”

“Fairly smoothly?”, she asks making Eddie laugh. 

“Ok, ok, she basically runs this place.”

“It’s very nice to meet you.”, she greets, scurrying off to focus on her other tasks. 

“May I ask you something?”

“You can ask me anything you want, sweetheart.”, the gangster replies, gesturing with his hand towards a booth for you to take a seat where some papers were waiting for him to review. 

“How many of these people know what you do?”

“You mean how many people are involved in my other activities?” You nod at his inquiry. “The best way to know is by looking at my employees belt loops.” When your eyebrows furrow in confusion, he tilts closer to you and whispers, “Anyone who has a gun on their hip has a particular level of clearance within my enterprise.”

Glancing around, there were a couple of men lounging by the front door with weapons holstered at their side along with someone you recognized as Gareth leaning against the entry way that led to his apartment with a 9mm tucked close to his side. 

“You ok?”, Eddie asks, feeling your body stiffen slightly as his palm rubs your back. 

“Yeah, I’m ok. It’s, um, it’s just going to take some getting used to.”

The man nods, pulling you closer to his side and kissing your temple. 

Last night you sat in that very same booth, observing him as he maneuvered around the building in his sleek all black suit, shaking hands with people he passed while carefully taking in his surroundings while carrying this air of confidence that silently screamed “I’m a nice guy but make one wrong move…”

Someone did start a drunken brawl on the dance floor but instead of breaking it up, the gangster raised his ringed fingers in the air and two men (without guns on their hip) intervened, taking the men’s arms and yanking them out the front door. 

At about 2am, Eddie guided you up the stairs where you two crashed entangled in each other’s arms. 

This entire experience was completely surreal for you and not in the way anyone or even you expected. It was only a few days ago that you were cursing his name while you sat in your house alone hating that he abandoned you for a life you believed he never wanted and now you were in his bed on your side making love to him and involved with not only him but that specific lifestyle.

“Don’t stop.”, you pant. “Right there, baby.”

“Yeah? Right there, sweetheart? Fuck, your pussy feels so good. Love waking up next to this sexy body pressed against me. Cum for me, baby.”

His steady breath warms your skin as your cunt flutters tightly around him, your fingers that were intertwined with his own, squeezing equally so as your orgasm washed over you. 

“That’s my girl. That’s my good, beautiful girl.”, Eddie praises, the muscles in his arms flexing as he clung to your frame, pounding his release deep into your walls. “Fuck me, that… was perfect…”

You softly smile as you roll onto your opposite side, allowing you to be face to face with his gentle features. 

“I missed you.”, you murmur, speech slightly slurred from your bliss making him smirk at the sound. 

“I missed you to, Y/N, so much.”

“Ok, but to be fair, you were kind of stalking me so…”, you tease, grinning at the sound of his laugh. “…You saw me but I never saw you.”

“You saw me, honey.”, he murmurs, his palm extending out to caress your cheek. “You were the only one who ever really did.”

Tilting closer to him, your lips pressed to his as your arms circle around his warm, bare upper half. 

“What are your plans for today?”

“Hmmm…unfortunately, I do have to some business around Hawkins today but afterward I was thinking I could make you dinner before I work at the club tonight. What about you, baby? Checking in on the store?”

“Yeah but then I would love to come over and have dinner.”

“Good.”, he beams, kissing your lips again. “Gareth is going to keep an eye on you for me so—"

“Eddie, I can handle myself.”

“I know you can. He’s not there for you. Shit, you’re there for him just in case someone tries to hurt him. I mean…”, Eddie jests, both your giggles cutting him off as you lightly punch his chest. 

#####################

“Eddie, oh my God, what happened?!”, you cry as you open your front door and your fifteen-year-old best friend pushes inside your parent’s house dripping wet from the rain outside.  

Red had begun to mix with the clear liquid flowing down his hand as you realized his knuckles were bleeding along with a prominent cut on his mouth. 

“Did you fight Tommy again? I told you not to let what he says about me get to you.”, you scold, taking his hand in yours and yanking him into your bedroom towards the bathroom where you place him in front of your sink. Glassy, chocolate eyes follow you through his damp head of hair that was blocking his line of sight as you maneuvered around the room, making a little aha noise when you found your first aid kit. “Let me see—”

Just as you take hold of his bloody palm, he lunges towards you, circling his arms tightly around your shoulders as he hugs you to him. 

“Everything…Everything’s ok, Eddie. I promise.”, you whisper comfortingly, squeezing him just as tight. “No one is ever going to hurt you, not while I’m here.”

A husky giggle leaves his throat as he pulls away, his hands cupping your cheeks for a moment before allowing you to take one in your grasp so you could clean his wound. 

“My dad and I got into a fight.”, he murmurs so low that you have to step a bit closer to hear him. “He made a comment about your body so I threw a knife into the wall by his head. Told him if he ever talks about you again I’d kill him.”

“Eddie…”

“He punched me so I hit him back. Wayne broke us up and threw him out. After he drove off, I ran here.”

“You can stay here if you need to. You know you’re always safe with me and I love you.”

Once you had his wounds clean and he was changed into some dry clothes, you put on a record while you two laid on the floor smoking some weed. 

“What did he say?”

“Hm?”

“Your dad; what did he say? About me.”

“It doesn’t matter but after I threw the knife and it stuck in the wall like a badass, I told him you were MY girl and no one talks about my girl like that.” 

At the end of his sentence, his eyes meet yours as you both laugh. 

***

“Gareth where is he?”, you grumble, arms folded at the table you had been sitting at waiting for Eddie to come back for your date. 

“I’m not sure, Y/N. My only orders were to watch over you so that’s what I’m doing.”

You huff at his answer, glancing at your phone for any messages and still finding none even though he was over 3 hours late. 

You made a decision then, grabbing your heels that you brought to match your cute black dress with the lacy sleeves and sliding them on. 

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to the bar at the club. If he wants to be late, he can but I’m going to go drink.”

Just as you head for the front door, your bodyguard blocks your path. 

“I can’t allow that. Eddie told me to watch you so I must insist you stay here.”

“You can insist all you want but I’m going down there whether you both like it or not. Now as my guard are you coming or are you going to stay here and tell his highness how you let me go downstairs by myself?”

Apprehensive eyes take you in, taking note of your determination before stepping out of your way to allow you to leave. 

The bass of the music greeted you first as you entered the area, taking in all the patrons that were already there at what most clubs considered an early hour. Couples had already begun to grind against one another on the dance floor while others filled the booths except for the one you recognized as Eddie’s that was sitting empty. 

Pain panged at your heart at the sight but you pushed it down, clicking your way to the bar where Jeff smiled your way and poured you a drink. 

“Pretty girl like you shouldn’t be drinking alone.”, a smooth voice declared with confidence but just before you can reply with any kind of sass, you are met with a wide grin and an extended palm. “I’m Connor, Connor Douglas.”

“Hm, well, Mr. Douglas, it’s nice to meet you but I’d like to drink alone, please.”

“Said the girl who’s choosing to drink at a bar in a club.”, he replied with a quick wit you weren’t prepared for, his grin falling to a smirk but no less radiant. 

“I’m, um, I just need to steady my nerves.”

“Trouble in paradise?”, he asks genuinely, allowing your irises to scan down his frame and take in his expensive looking suit. 

“Do I know you?”, you inquire, feeling like you’ve seen him somewhere before. “You’re not a cop or anything right?”

Connor’s boisterous laugh echoes over the music and you can’t help but smile as well.

“Ah, no, honey, definitely not a cop. I’m not sure if you know me but I’d like to get to know you.”, he answers equally as smooth, all his other sentences unintentionally making your breathing stutter. “What makes you scream, what makes you shake…what makes Eddie Munson’s girlfriend…tick.”

You blinked, leaning back a bit to distance yourself from the man in front of you. 

“Who are you?”

Gunfire makes you jump but not him as a heavy sigh leaves his lips and he reaches for his glass of refilled whiskey. 

Gathering your bearings, your take in the sight around you to see people being yelled at to leave but just as you begin to head for the door yourself, Connor’s palm reaches for your wrist and spins you around till your back is to his chest. 

“Ah ah. It’s best we stay put, baby girl.”

You try to push against him but he’s much stronger than you are, his grip moving to your bicep and clinging tighter.

Another gun shot hits the ceiling and as you shift your gaze to the person firing it, your eyes widen as they fall on your former best friend whose suit was stained red with blood and torn slightly near his collar.

Eddie’s normally soft chocolate irises were dark and menacing as he glared towards the man holding you. 

“A bit dramatic don’t you think, Munson?”

The gangster pointed his gun towards you both, firing it past the other man’s ear and hitting the glass behind the bar making you squeak in terror. 

“Let. Her. Go.”, Eddie growled with a deepness you had never heard from him. 

“I will, don’t worry. I just needed to make sure you listened.”, Connor beamed, softening his hold as he circled both arms around you and rested his chin on your shoulder. “Did you get my message on the east side today? I’m guess by your appearance you had some thoughts.”

The long-haired man remained silent, his jaw clenched in a permanent snarl as his chest rose and fell in heavy anger. 

“Come on, Munson, answer me!”, he shouted causing you to tremble in fear as the sudden sound startled you. Eddie cocked his gun at the sight and took steps toward you both but large hands on either side of your head gave him pause. “Aw come on. Do you think you can reach me before I snap her neck? Fuck me, you must really care about her. Look at him, Y/N. He can barely even think straight.”, the man chuckles. 

“Fuck you.”, you hiss, push him again only for him to laugh at your attempt. 

“I told you, baby girl, I was going to find out what makes you scream and shake.” 

Your face cringes in disgust as his tongue licks up your cheek and, once more the gangster takes a step towards you just as Connor pulls you back with him. 

“You wanted my attention, you got it. You should have left it at that warehouse but you brought her into it—”

“No, Edward, you did when you accepted her into this life. It was on thing to stay away from here but now she’s a part of it and people WILL risk it to find out what you’re hiding and how you do it.”

“I guess I’m going to have to make an example out of you aren’t I? You could have just asked, Connor. I’m not hiding anything, I’m just not like my father.”

“Aw, that’s cute. You genuinely believe that don’t you?”, the man mocked. “We’ll let’s see if you can keep her alive better than he did your mother.”

With that he shoved you towards the gangster, who caught you with his free arm, pulling you to his side and blocking your ears with body and hand as is other limb extended out, firing his weapon towards the door the other man escaped through. 

###########

Eddie’s eyes closed as you shook against him, your sobs suffocated by his Black Sabbath shirt as he pressed your face against his chest. 

“You’re scaring me, sweetheart. What happened?”

Pulling back, you ran your fingers under your eyes very aware that your make up was probably smeared down your face at this point. 

“I’m sorry…I look like a gremlin…”, you joke, trying to make light of the situation, smirking when the metalhead laughs.

“If you look like a gremlin, honey, then it’s Gizmo.”, he replies, reaching into his back pocket for his black bandana and wiping the tear streaks from your cheeks before making the gremlin’s little singing sound that has you giggling so hard your tummy shakes. “Talk to me, Y/N, what happened?”

“My mom got me this new dress and I was so excited to wear it—”

“Because you look beautiful in it.”

“Thank you.”, you whisper breathily, trying to control your tears at his kindness. “Tommy said I looked gross. T-That I look…look fat…”

As your bottom lip starts to tremble, your best friend pulls you into his embrace once more. 

“Tommy is a fucking moron. You are literally the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever seen. You know what? I think he’s jealous.”

“What?”, you laugh, backing away so you could see his face. 

“Yeah, I bet he’s fucking jealous that a beautiful woman such as yourself would never be caught dead with a loser like him so he has to demean you. You know what, now I’m jealous.” Your eyebrows furrow in confusion even as you continue to grin. “Oh yeah. Asshole was checking out MY girl even though he knows she’s too good for him? No sir. HEY TOMMY!”

Abruptly, Eddie rises to his feet and you watch with your jaw on the floor as he runs towards the jock and tackles him to the ground before punching him hard in the face. 

########################

You sit on the stage at the front of the club with the water Jeff had brought clutched tightly in your palm. 

Black expensive shoes slide into your field of view but just as your gaze shifts to meet Eddie’s you notice his were focused on the glass in your hand where the ice was making subtle clinking noises as your limbs shook. 

“I’m sorry, Ed, we didn’t get him.”, one of his crew panted from behind him as he tucked his gun back into its holster. 

“How did he know I wasn’t here?”, the boy murmured so low even you barely heard him. 

“Sir?”

Suddenly, the gangster turns on his heels and fires a shot into the boy’s leg who promptly howls in pain as he falls to the floor. 

“I said how did he know I wasn’t here!? I’m here at Corroded Coffin every night and the one night I was held up, he just so happens to be at the bar!?”

“I don’t know, sir!! Fuck! Jeff or maybe Gareth—”

Eddie kneels onto his heels and pushes the barrel of his weapon into the wound eliciting a loud howl that another member of his gang promptly interrupts by slamming his hand over the man’s mouth. 

“No, they’ve earned my trust. You on the other hand…add in that I sent you after him seconds after he ran and yet he somehow got away?!”

“I swear…I swear…sir…I didn’t know…I didn’t know he was going to use Y/N—”

The gun goes off again this time in his shoulder and the man covering his mouth grunts as he struggles to keep him still. 

“Say her name again; I dare you.”, he growls, pushing the gun into his temple. “What else did you tell him?”

“I…I just told him…when you were gone…and that you were…coming back—”

Your eyes widen as he pulls the trigger one final time and rises to his feet all to casually. 

“So this is how we’re running things now? Letting rats into our home…letting intel slip!!”, he shouted, his body shaking with rage. “No one fucking notice the head of a major organization sitting at the FUCKING BAR WITH THE ONE WOMAN I ASKED YOU TO KEEP AN EYE ON!!!”

The man blinks, sighing as his head hangs. 

“I want this place cleaned up within two hours and the next time one of you fucks up I won’t be so fucking nice. Am I being clear?”

“Yes, sir.”, the people around him respond in unison. 

“Timothy, Gareth, and Y/N, come with me.”, he beckons without pause, stalking past you and your bodyguard to the back door that led to his apartment upstairs. 

The moment the door shut, the three of you stood their silently as he took off his suit jacket and calmly placed it on the chair near his kitchen table before rolling up his sleeves. 

“Tim, I need you to do some recon for me and tell me what Connor is truly planning. I want you to track his movements, people who come and go out of building, and any merchandise that seems out of place. Keep a detailed record and bring it back to me at the end of every night.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And I mean detailed. If he even so much as goes to the bathroom in the middle of the night I want to know about it. You and Bobby can switch off but only you two. Especially since everyone else seems to be fucking up lately. You two are the only ones I trust to do this.”

“Understood, sir.”

Eddie nods, turning his attention to the other boy and placing his hands on his hips. 

“Why was she in the club?”

“I told her to stay put and that you wouldn’t want her to go down there but—”

“That’s not what I ask, Gareth. I asked you why she was down there.”

“Eddie—“, you start to cut in but his arm outstretched with his index finger held up in your direction silenced you, his head not even turning to look your way as he glared at his friend waiting for an answer.

“She insisted…sir…”

The gangster’s hair bobbed as he nodded before his fist flew, hitting his friend hard in the face. You stepped forward, trying to get his attention but Timothy’s hand gripping your bicep kept you in place.

“Eddie, stop! It’s not his fault!”

Gripping his collar, the man lifted him off the floor and shoved him against the wall. 

“If you ever fail to do what I ask again, I’ll put in a bullet in your head just like anyone else. Do you hear me?”

“Yes…Yes, sir…”

The man beside you catches him as he’s tossed limply that way. 

“Take him to the medic before you leave.” Tim nods, carrying Gareth out the door leaving you alone with the gangster in front of you. 

The apartment falls silent, only his steady breathes through his nose audible.

“Eddie—” As you whimper his name, his angry eyes flick up to meet yours. “I’m sorry.”

“What were you doing down there?”

“You were late and I was upset so I wanted to get a drink—” Grabbing an empty beer bottle off his living room table, the metalhead hurls it against the wall to his right and your heart fluttered in fear but only for a moment before you remembered this wasn’t just the gangster of Hawkins but the boy you grew up and had known growing up. 

The man who broke your heart before you were thrust back into his life. 

“That’s not fair, Eddie. I’m not your prisoner. I’m your…” When your words stalled, he focused his full attention back on you. “I’m not a prisoner. I’m allowed to go out and I had no idea something was going on where I needed to stay here.”

“Y/N, I’m not some average guy who works a 9 to 5. I run an entire fucking industry that includes people who want me dead. I will be late sometimes and I will come home like this…”, he replies, expanding his arms to show off the now dried stains of red on his shirt. “…but I can’t focus and do my job when I’m worried you WON’T FUCKING LISTEN!”

Stomping towards him, you smack his biceps with your hands so he’d lower his limbs before pointing your finger in his face. 

“YOU DIDN’T TELL ME WHAT YOU WERE DOING!”, you shout back. “You said you had things to do that involved your business and then you’d meet me here so you could cook me fucking dinner! You didn’t even text me or call to say you’d be late! I was sitting here in this dress feeling like a fucking idiot waiting for you!!”

“I’m sorry, baby. Maybe you just don’t fully understand the relationship you’re in.”, Eddie retorts sarcastically, placing his body so close to yours that your hair blew when he spoke. “I’m a…FUCKING… CRIMINAL! If I’m late to something that means I’m fucking busy usually involving something that requires my fucking gun. Things like texting or calling if I’m late for dinner or hell being on fucking time for dinner are luxuries not afforded when you’re in a relationship with me, Y/N.”

“That doesn’t give you license to treat me like trash, Edward!”

“Is that what you feel like, little girl?! Fucking trash!”

“YES!!”

Eddie’s hand promptly grips the back of your neck and holds you in place as his lips crash to yours. 

You weren’t sure if it was the adrenaline, your own anger and fear, or him protecting you the way he had but you desperately needed him, your fingers tugging at his shirt to try and remove it. Dropping slightly, Eddie took hold of the back of your thighs and you jumped into his hold, circling your legs around his waist as your arms wrapped around his neck. 

“Shoulda’ fucking gone after him myself.”, he grumbled, falling with you onto his mattress. “M’gonna cut out that tongue of his and hang it on my fucking wall.”

Pushing up onto his knees, you watched with lust blown eyes as he unbuckled his belt and removed it in one go around his forearm. As he hovers over you to take hold of your wrists, your lips trail along his abs, moaning against his skin when you feel the leather bind you to his headboard. 

“Came into MY house, talked to MY girl, TOUCHED my girl…”, Eddie growled. “No one touches you like that except me.” Sliding backward, his fingers tighten around your dress and with amazing strength rips it down the middle before roughly yanking down your panties. “He wants to know what fucking makes you scream and shake? I can fucking show him.”

His hands firmly take hold of your meaty thighs and spread them wide as he dips his head between your legs to wrap his mouth around your clit making you whimper. 

The gangster moved like a man on a mission, his tongue licking long stripes between your folds and flicking your bundle of nerves before repeating the process. 

“E-Eddie, fuck…”

You pulled on your restraints to no avail as your legs attempted to close around his head but his hands kept them in place as the coil in your belly snapped and he drank you in. The man’s pace didn’t falter as he continued to play, your eyes rolling closed as he built you up.

“No, fucking, no, Y/N.”, he mumbles breathily, crawling up your frame and pressing his forehead to yours as two of his fingers take over where his tongue left off. “Open your eyes and look at me, little girl.”

When you do as he says, his own irises darken as he brings his digits to his mouth coating them more with his saliva and breaching your entrance once more. 

“You still feel like fucking trash?”

A notion hit you then, something that rippled through your body and clenched your pussy around his fingers. 

Eddie did everything he could to keep you safe and protect you since the two of you met even fighting people for saying something when you weren’t even in the same room. For five years, even though you two weren’t talking, he was watching over you. 

It wasn’t just because of who he was but because you helped ground him in a chaotic world. You were there for him when he felt lost and alone and in return he kept you safe and provided you with a sense of peace. 

Growing up he would watch you smile and laugh and even though you scolded him about defending you, your eyes glowed with appreciation.

You needed him. 

Whether it be mentally, emotionally, or physically, you needed him and he delivered because he loved you. 

He never asked for a thank you or any kind of praise because he didn’t need it. 

Seeing you happy was all he needed. 

Doesn’t mean he didn’t enjoy hearing it…especially in bed…

“HE made me feel like trash.”, you murmur, eyes meeting his. “The way he talked to me and then grabbed me—” Eddie’s literal growl at the notion cut you off and your eyes fluttered as the pace of his fingers hastened. “But then I saw you, baby, and I—fuck—I knew I was safe.”

The obscene sound of your slick filled the room mixed in with your moans as the ball dropped once more and you came. 

“Thank you for protecting me.” Brown eyes remained on you as he pushed up fully onto his knees and unbuckled his pants, pushing them and his boxers to the floor, pausing to allow you to look over his frame, his head tilting when you choke out a sob. “W-When I noticed you…covered in bl-bl-blood…I thought you were hurt…”

The gangster’s irises soften slightly at your admission.

“It was someone else’s?”

Eddie nods silently. 

Reaching over you, he removes the belt from the headboard and releases you from your binds but just as he’s about to toss it aside, you grab his wrist and crawl till you were directly in front of him. 

Tilting towards him, you tenderly place kisses along his throat, removing the rest of your dress and your bra, throwing it to the floor beside his bed before circling your hands behind your back. 

The gangster gets the message, his fingers gently caressing down your limbs till they find your wrists to retie the belt around them. Taking a hold of your bicep, he helps roll you onto your back till your head hangs off the edge and you willingly open your mouth, an invitation he accepts, holding his shaft as he guides the tip along your tongue. 

“Connor was right about one thing. I saw his hands on you and I lost my Goddamn mind.”, he murmured, his low, husky tone making you sigh as you allowed the organ between your teeth to lick the precum off his slit. “I went to the apartment first and w-when you weren’t there—fuuuuuck—”

His palm grips the back of your neck as he abruptly thrusts his cock deeper down your throat, your gags practically egging him on as he grits his teeth.

“After what happened at the warehouse, I thought he took you and this rage I never knew took over. I was prepared to burn Hawkins down to find you…”, Eddie pauses, allowing you air for a moment and diving back in to fuck your face. “…I came around and saw you two at the bar. I thought you were trying to make me jealous again and it just fueled my anger…”

At your garbled speech, he pulled back and glared down at your tear-streaked face. 

“I wasn’t…I wasn’t, Eddie…I swear…I just…I was mad and I wanted a drink…I didn’t even realize he was next to me…”, you pant, squeaking when he roughly sits you up and maneuvers your body till your back was face him and your knees were spread out on the edge of the bed while he continued to stand behind you. 

“Oh yeah? That’s not why you insisted on going downstairs? I have boos up here, Y/N! You didn’t want to rile me up and make me angry for being late?!”

You shake your head as his hand bruises your hip, holding you still as he guides his cock into your dripping core. 

“Fuck me…answer me, Y/N…”

“I didn’t…didn’t…fuck…I didn’t want to be up here without you!!”, you shout, throwing him off slightly as his arms circle around to your front and bring you fully against him. “Mmph—fuck—your cock feels so good, Eddie.”

“Keep going, baby. What do you mean?”

Your forehead presses to his temple and you kiss his cheek. 

“It reminded me of the last five years…I’ve had dinner alone…”

His lips gently press to yours, your subtle groans vibrating against him as he thrusts his length into you at a steady pace. 

“I’m so sorry, Eddie.”

“Shhhhh, shhhh, pretty girl. Don’t—don’t think about that right now. Focus on my dick stretching you out and making you feel good. Fuck, sweetheart, the way your body reacts to me drives me insane.” You feel him tilt away from you slightly, the air cooling your sweaty skin as he does. “Your pussy’s so wet, Y/N, Jesus.”

“O-Only for you, baby.”

Again, he growls but this time it’s in pleasure, his ringed hand circling around your throat and his other pressing to your spine, guiding you as far forward as he could get you, pumping into you so hard that the sound of skin hitting skin bounced off the walls. 

“Say it again.”

“O-Only for…for you, Eddie. My pussy and body…are yours…Oh my God…”, you whine, your head lulling forward. “Thank you, baby. Thank you for saving me.”

Taking ahold of your frame, he lifted you off the mattress slightly to push you forward so he could climb on with you making you mewl as his cock pushed deeper inside of you. His long hair fanned around your face, blocking any view you had as he sucked on the nook between your neck and shoulder, rolling his hips till his length and body fully consumed you. 

“I’m not going to let anyone hurt you, Y/N. That fucker made a mistake tonight…the worst mistake anyone can make…underestimating me…he says people are going to come for me through you… You’re mine. Mine to keep safe. Mine to claim. And anyone who forgets that… won’t live long enough to remember.”

“Eddie.”

Reaching between your bodies, he blindly undoes the belt and it makes a loud clank as it clatters to the floor.

“Lift your arms.”, he commands, threading his fingers through yours as he holds your hands. “Cum with me, baby.”

All you can muster is a pathetic mmhmm as he chases both your highs, your body trembling aggressively beneath his as you cum and his repetitive grunts fill your ear as he fills you up. 

When you begin to cry you don’t think anything of it until after a couple of minutes, you couldn’t make the tears stop. 

“Y/N, honey, I’m going to pull out now, ok?”

“Okay.”, your voice cracks.

“I need one of my hands so I don’t hurt you.”, he whispers softly, waiting patiently for you to release one of his palms which you do. “Good girl, sweetheart. Such a good girl.”

The moment he completes his task, Eddie rolls to his side, bringing you with him while wrapping his arms around your chest to hug you to him. 

“It’s ok, Y/N, I got you.”, he soothes, petting some of your hair back, away from your face and lightly kissing your skin. “I got you, baby. You can cry, scream, anything you need to and I’ll be right here.”

“Eddie, I…I swear I didn’t know who he was or go down there to make you jealous.”, you ramble, pushing up on to your palm so you can turn and face him. “I didn’t think and I didn’t mean to get Gareth in trouble—”

“Y/N, stop. Stop, stop, stop.”, he shushes, propping himself up on his elbow. “First, Gareth got himself in trouble. He may be one of my closest friends but he’s also my employee and he knows my rules. I can’t afford to be lenient with anyone on my crew no matter who they are. If I did, I’d have more people like that traitor I shot.”

At the mention of the man he killed, his eyes cautious flick towards you, taking note of how you keen away from him slightly. 

“This is my fault.”, he says to himself under his breath. “I should have been clearer with you about me and what I do.” Rising off the mattress, he reaches for you hand which you take and the moment your feet touch the floor, he lifts you into his arms and carries you to his bathroom where he begins to prepare a bath. 

“I never thought you were capable of that…looking back I feel like I missed something…”

Eddie blinks, shifting his focus on the water filling the tub.

“I was always a bad kid, you just always looked past all that.”

“You weren’t a bad kid, Eddie—”

“Look, Y/N, I appreciate you trying to pander to me but I already told you I would never hurt you.”

“Huh?”, you ask, completely confused as he forcefully slams the facet down and off.

“You’re trying to say nice things like how I was a good boy or some shit because after what you saw you’re afraid of me and I get it. I broke your heart by leaving and you carry that with you, fucking thinking I abandoned you again even though while I was at that warehouse all I kept thinking about was how you were probably sitting alone at that table in some nice, beautiful dress waiting for me to take care of you while I’m here dealing with some fucking moron who pulled a gun on me and demanded a new fucking deal even though his boss was aware I don’t renegotiate!”, he huffed, clearing his throat to regain control of his temper as he ushered you into the warm water. 

“I’m not pandering to you.”, you whimper, hugging your limbs around yourself. “And I’m not afraid of you. Yeah, waiting for you and you being late reminded me of those dinners I spent alone thinking about you but you’re right. You don’t have a normal job. Thinking about it now, I feel kind of bad it didn’t occur to me that you were late because something went wrong but I think that’s because you talk about all this so confidently…like you’re always in control…” You pause as you smile up at him. “I have faith in you, I guess.”

Eddie’s throaty chuckle had your grin growing and silently scoot your body forward, signaling that you wanted him to sit with you and he obliges.

“I’m sorry I made you feel like trash.”, he whispered, hugging his arms around you and resting his chin on your shoulder. “I honestly could have texted saying I may be late. I knew something was off when we showed up and Connor’s guys weren’t outside like they normally are.”

“What happened there? At the warehouse?”

Eddie heavily exhales as he places a soft kiss on your skin.

“The guy said Connor wanted to renegotiate. The truth is, it seems, he wants to take over our supply. Part of my business, Y/N, involves smuggling drugs and guns to some high-level people across Hawkins and Indiana. My reach is growing though…farther than my father ever dreamed. When I told them no, he pulled a gun on me and I indulged him. He showed me one of my warehouses where we stash supplies and they had killed everyone inside.”

Leaning against him, you pressed your forehead against his cheek and caress his arms comfortingly. 

“We fought back and I won, of course.”, he lightly teased, trying to give you a small smile of his own. “Took a while for the man to slip up so we could get the upper hand though. They always do…slip up or lose focus…”

“Should I be afraid of this man? Connor?”

Taking ahold of your chin, Eddie held you in place as he craned his neck to meet your gaze.

“Is Connor Douglas a dangerous man? Yes. Should you be afraid of him? Not while I’m breathing, sweetheart. I meant what I said, you ARE safe with me. I just really need you to listen to me and do what I say when it comes to your safety.”

You nod, kissing his lips while you allow him to clean and take care of you.

“Were you afraid of me?”, the man asks quietly as he pulls one of his shirts around your body and gradually closes the buttons. “When you saw me fire my gun and reprimand my men?”

“No.”, you answer honestly. “It was kind of hot if I’m being honest.”

Eddie chuckles as his palms rest on your waist and you circle your arms around his neck. 

“And they said I was the freak.”, he teases.

“We both are.”, you reply light heartedly, taking his hand and guiding him towards his kitchen. “Now I think I was promised dinner…” The gangster’s grin widens, showing off all his teeth as he laughs, taking a hold of your hips once more and lifting you onto the counter. “I mean if you’re up to it. I know you had a long day.”

“Hey now. A promise is a promise and I can’t let my gorgeous girl go hungry.” You blush at his compliment, your eyes lingering on his torso that his black sweatpants were currently hugging. “That is…if you’re up to it still…being my girl.”, he relays nervously when your eyebrows furrow together. “My girlFRIEND…”

Eddie waits patiently, his fingers lingering on the doorframe of the fridge not wanting to turn his back on you for a moment. You usher him with your hand and he can’t help but smile as he places his palms on either side of your body and leans in till his nose is centimeters from yours. 

“I never once thought you were a bad kid and I definitely don’t think you’re a bad man. There’s still a small part of me that’s afraid you’re going to disappear again but I’m trying really hard, Eddie. I know I still have a lot to learn but I’m willing to because I love you and I’ve always been your girl. I just need you to meet me halfway.”

The boy kisses your lips, sighing lightly at the feeling of your hands cupping his face.

“You leave him alone!”, a six-year-old you shouts towards a couple of the boys that cornered Eddie on the playground and tossed the contents of his backpack on the concrete. 

He had tried to fight back but one of the kids had him pinned against the brick wall to keep him out of the way. 

“What’s it to you, geek?”, a boy mocked. “Get lost before we do the same to you!”

Running towards them with your little hands outstretched, you pushed him onto ground and he howled in pain as his face met the small gravel beneath him. 

“I said leave him alone! He’s MY friend.”

“Looks like the freak has a girlfriend.”, another boy sneered as the boy you pushed rose to his feet. 

“Come on, guys, let’s go.”, he beckons, kicking some of Eddie’s papers for good measure.

When they disappear, he quickly bends down and grabs a CD that had been obscured by his things, checking it over before hugging it to his chest. 

“Are you ok?”, you ask. “They didn’t break that did they?”

“No…my mom gave this to me for good luck…I guess it didn’t work.”, he sighs.

“I mean, it kind of did. I got to meet you.” His chocolate irises meet your beaming features as you reach out to shake his hand. “I’m Y/N.”

“Eddie. Thank you for helping me. Most people walked past and didn’t help.”

Holding the bottom of your dress, you fall to your knees to help him collect his things. 

“Yeah, people around here are jerks. They make fun of me to sometimes because I’m…” The boy’s eyes watch you as you pat your tummy. 

“Because you’re…cute?” Eddie’s smile expands from ear to ear when he hears your giggle. “If they’re ever mean to you, tell me! We’re friends now and no one is a jerk to my girl!”

“Eddie?”

The gangster blinks back into the present, your concerned eyes taking him in while your thumbs caressed his cheeks. 

“I’ll meet you more than halfway, baby, I promise. As long as you’re open with me, no matter what.”

“No matter what, I promise.”

“Good.”, he coos, pecking your lips again. “Are we boyfriend and girlfriend now?”

Your laugh has him beaming as you fully pull him into your arms and hug him tightly. 

“Of course, freak.”

Kissing you one final time, he grabs his phone and scrolls through it for a bit before a beat begins to play from his speakers and Etta James’s gorgeous voice flows through. Eddie winks and smirks your way, turning to give his attention to the meal he wanted to prepare as the memory of first meeting him flows through your mind as well. 

“Whose Et-tah James?”, you ask, your finger pointing to the music in his grasp.

Eddie freezes, his wide playful eyes eliciting another laugh the boy knew he’d do anything to hear constantly. 

“You don’t know who Etta James is?”

“No.”, you smile at his antics, happy you trusted your intuition to help and befriend this kid who was new to Hawkins. 

After tossing his backpack over his shoulders, Eddie clasps his hands together and belts out a song with all his little heart. 

“I want a Sunday kind of love

A love to last past Saturday night

And I'd like to know it's more than love at first sight

And I want a Sunday kind of love, oh yeah, yeah.”

“Oh my God, I love it!”

“Yeah? Do you, um, do you want to maybe come over and listen to some more? My uncle watches me till my mom gets off work.”

Again, you grin as you lightly push his shoulder with yours. 

“I’d love to.”

#####################

Everyone thought they knew who Eddie Munson was but no one knew him like you did. 

You were the first to befriend him in elementary school after his mother passed. Your house was the one he ran to when his dad or uncle pissed him off. Countless sleepovers filled with long nights of talking about the future. 

That’s why it threw you off guard after you two graduated from high school that he decided to take over his father’s enterprise. Alan Munson wasn’t a notorious gangster like the ones you would see in movies like The Godfather or Goodfellas but Eddie felt like he could make the Munson crew great. 

He had always told you he didn’t want to be like his dad; that he wanted to be a rockstar. When you pointed this out, he just shook his head. 

“Sweetheart, I can be a rockstar in this business. I can be that and more.”

You gave him an ultimatum that night; become a criminal like Alan or runway with you to start a new life and be happy. 

That was the last night you spoke with your best friend and it killed you. 

You stayed in Hawkins and opened your own little convenience store in the middle of town that was relatively successful. You bought your own home at the edge of town where you could still be close to everything you knew while getting out of the chaos in your mind from time to time. 

Even though you didn’t see him, you heard about Eddie every now and then over the next five years. He and his father ran around together getting into trouble but it was Alan who was caught moving a shipment of drugs and was given life without any chance of parole. 

A few months after, a club named Corroded Coffin was opened on the opposite side of town where everyone was able to go dance, drink, and let loose. 

That’s all you knew or heard about your former best friend and you were ok with that. Yeah when the memories hit, you drowned yourself in your sorrows and bottle of the best drink you could find (man in your bed optional) but you were ok.

The universe must have felt differently. 

That’s the only reason you could explain why you were currently in an interrogation room at the Hawkins police station. 

“Hey, Y/N. I’m so sorry to keep you waiting.”, an officer you had never met greeted, extending his hand out for you to shake which you don’t choosing to keep your arms crossed over your chest. “Okaaaay, um, my name is Officer Burke. I’m new to Hawkins PD and Hawkins in general. They brought me in to—”

“That’s really nice, officer, but can you cut to the chase and tell me why I’m here? I need to get back work and I haven’t done anything police worthy since I was 16.”

“Ah yes.”, he muses, leaning back in his seat and opening a file. “With an Edward Munson, right? Looks like you two got into a fair amount of trouble a few times in your teens. Nothing too dramatic…vandalism of school property, joyriding, etc.” You nod, lips thin as you continue to wait for the point. “As I was trying to say before, they brought me in to start a new unit within Hawkins. A task force so to speak.”

The man sarcastically smirks as his eyes meet yours. 

“I’m here to take down the Munson crew.” He waits for a reaction, slightly annoyed when you don’t provide him with one. Little did he know you were an expert had hiding your emotions. While your face remained stoic, your heart began to race as your stomach bubbled with nerves. “I want your help.”

That genuinely made you laugh. 

“Officer Burke, I haven’t even seen Edward Munson in over five years.”

“But you were close to him, yes? Bonds like that don’t just end.”

“They do when your best friend chooses to stop speaking to you.”

“Why is that exactly? Is it because of his gang?” You remain silent, glaring daggers at the imbecile in front of you. “If you really were his best friend and loved him as much as it seems like you did, you’d help us put him away. You have no idea what he’s done.”

“You’re right, I don’t, because I don’t care.”

After digging through some papers, he slides some pictures across the table. A few are boxes of narcotics confiscated into evidence with a man you recognized handcuffed beside them. The last couple were bodies with bullet holes lying next to the bank of a lake. 

“They cared. The men he killed had families, people who did care. People who are addicted to the drugs he brings in that end up either dead or worse. You can help, Y/N. We know this is his crew but all our evidence is circumstantial. We need something concrete and I truly believe you’re the only one that can get close enough to do that.”

While the officer pleads, your eyes close as a memory of you and Eddie in middle school passes through your mind. You both were twelve and he asked you to the Snowball dance; the first time you wore a dress and he an ill-fitting suit. 

As you both swayed to a slow song, you circled your arms around him and rested your head on his shoulder. His ringed fingers thread through your mess of hair and you both held each other like you were the only two people in the world. 

“Please, Y/N.”

When you open your eyes again, you’re met with the reality of everything and your heart hardens once more. 

“Fuck off and don’t bring me down here again.”

When you stand to leave, he slides something your way. 

“This is my card, if you change your mind. I hope you do, Y/N. You could save a lot of lives.”

***

You told yourself you would never come here but you didn’t know what else to do. 

His new life had suddenly got you involved and you needed to resolve it now so you could continue with the way things used to be. 

Exhaling out your nerves, you slam your car door and stalk to the entrance of his nightclub currently baron in the afternoon hours as workers prepare for that evening. You couldn’t deny how beautiful the building within actually was. The outside and inside were painted black but the sign outside and lining of the walls were light pink neon allowing for a soft glow that didn’t hurt the eyes. 

The bar was to your immediate left when you enter and a plethora of booths lined the outside of the dance floor directly in the middle with a stage most likely for performers on the opposite side of the building. 

“Hey there.”, a young lady greets. “We’re actually not open until 8pm—”

“Oh, no, I’m, um, I need to speak with Edward Munson, please.”

“Mr. Munson isn’t available at the moment but if you come back—”

“It’s extremely important. Tell him it’s Y/N Y/L/N. I’m sure he’ll want to see me.”, you cut her off with a sharpness that has her eyeing you up and down. 

You watch as she heads behind the stage before reappearing five minutes later and ushering you with her hand to follow. She leads you up a set of stairs and opens a door at the top, gesturing silently for you to enter.

You find yourself in what appears to be a relatively nice living room inside an apartment above the club below. The window was currently open allowing the breeze to push the smell from the ashtray on its sill to waft your way. Along the wall were posters of metal bands you remember Eddie having in his room growing up and beside the couch against the wall was a shelf with photos you recognized of Wayne and Elizabeth Munson respectively. 

You couldn’t help but be taken aback when you noticed a picture of you and him he had taken when you two left the theater after watching The Blairwitch Project when you were teens. The metalhead was making a funny scared face, his cheek pressed to yours mid laugh as you hugged him tightly. 

“I always liked that picture. I used to scare the hell out of you by standing in the corner like he did at the end.”

Your heart skips at the sound of his voice and you gradually turn around to take him in. She must have just woke him up because his long hair was frayed the way it used to be when he would sleep over at your house or vise versa. All he had on was a pair of black sweats, allowing you to see his chest and toned stomach that were littered in tattoos (a couple of them you had been there to see him get). 

“What do I owe the pleasure, sweetheart?”

“I, um, I wanted to come talk to you—”

“Huh. Only took five years.”

You blink, your head tilting at his audacity. 

“YOU’RE the one that disappeared from my life, Eddie.”

“After you told me to choose between you or my future.”, he replied with distain, taking a cigarette from the open pack and lighting the end. 

“Wow. I knew this was a fucking mistake.”, you growl, turning to leave before you feel fingers grip your wrist. 

“No, no, Y/N. I’m sorry. I just woke up and this is my first cigarette of the day. You know how grumpy I am before my first.”, he jests, hoping to alleviate the tension. “Why did you come by?”

It was then that you realized he was still holding you and firmly pulled away. 

“I was told to come down to the police station today.” His eyes widen as he takes a seat on his coffee table in front of you to give you his full attention and you hand him the business card you were given. “There was a new cop there, Officer Burke. He said they brought him in to handle you.”

“Pfft. Handle me. How so?”, Eddie chuckled, inhaling the end of the stick between his fingers. 

“I don’t know but he wanted me to help him. He thought he could use me to get closer to you and gather evidence. I told him that I haven’t even seen you since…” Your voice trails off as his gaze shifts to the side. “Anyway, I thought I should warn you so you knew. Be more careful I guess…”

“Be more careful.”, he repeats. “Do you know what evidence they already have? I’m assuming not much if they had to bring someone in.”

“I don’t know. They just asked me to help and I said no.”

“Why?”

“Why? Really, Eddie? Because I’ve managed to keep you out of my life successfully all this time. Do you think I’d willing run back into yours?! Especially after what they showed me—”

“I thought you didn’t know what evidence they had.”, the man countered, rising to his feet and taking slow steps your way. 

“I don’t! They just…just showed me pictures…”

“Of?”

“Fuck you, Edward. I knew I shouldn’t have come here.” You only get the front door open a crack before it’s slammed shut with his large palm inches from the side of your head. 

You slowly turn around to face him finding his nose inches from yours while his arm keeps you boxed in between the door and himself. It had been so long since you had been this close to him and you were surprised that he still smelled the same. It took all of your energy not to collapse into his chest and hug him the way you used to growing up. 

You never knew if it was him or his energy but sometimes you would randomly hug him and he never complained, circling his arms tightly around you in return. People always thought you were a couple when they first met you two with how casual you both were with each other. During lunch sometimes he would lay his head on your lap while he babbled about D & D and you played with his hair. 

During the winter months, when you would hug him, sometimes you would slide your arms into the arms of his leather jacket and in return he would continue smoking or talking while resting his chin on your shoulder. 

That was normal for you two. 

You had known him for so long and you were always comfortable with him. 

“Are you afraid of me, Y/N?”, Eddie murmurs in a low, husky tone.

“Not in the way you’d think, Edward.”, you answer honestly. 

“What did they show you? What pictures?”

“Drugs and one of your dad’s friends being arrested. Bodies.” You whisper your last word and his head ticks to the side as his eyes soften. “They don’t have anything concrete though.”

“Did you come here to warn me or were you afraid that if I found out the police talked to you that I’d hurt you?”

At his question you scowl up at him and your jaw tightens. 

“Nothing will ever hurt me as much as you abandoning me for this.”, you hiss, gesturing absently around you both. “THIS is what I didn’t want and somehow I ended up here anyway. Fucking lying to the cops and helping keep your stupid ass out of jail.”

Eddie’s palm slides down the wood of the door to his side and he gradually takes a few steps back. 

“Thank you for coming down here to warn me. I’ll make sure you’re never bothered again, honey, I promise.” You nod, for some reason believing what he says. “By the way, I feel like it goes without saying but…I’d never hurt you. Even if you were wearing a wire right now or you did talk to them…you’re safe with me, honey. No one touches you. Everyone knows that.”

“What do you mean?”

The long-haired boy smiles as he lights another cigarette. 

“Don’t be a stranger, sweetheart. I…I missed you.”

##################

Days had passed and you hadn’t been able to stop thinking not only about everything that happened but your relationship with Eddie in the past. 

Being a bigger girl in Hawkins was a special kind of hell but he never made you feel like you were any different. When you two went swimming at the lake he didn’t make a crack about your curves and insisted on lifting you over his shoulders to play fight with the other kids.  When he took you out to eat, he would always insist you both get the biggest meal because he knew the moment you brought it home and got high you two would devour everything. 

When you two would tease each other and he thought you were moving too slow, he would lift you in his arms and run with you wherever you two were headed. 

When Jason would pick on you or any other guys broke your heart, he beat them up without question, shrugging his shoulders when you would scold him later while bandaging his knuckles. 

You were having one of your lows, missing him and the friend you used to have. Normally, you went to The Hideout and got wasted till a man hit on you that you brought home to fuck your frustrations out on but tonight…

Between being questioned by the cops and seeing him after so long, you threw on your tightest spaghetti strap black dress with your black heels and confidently clicked your way into the entrance of Corroded Coffin. 

Seeing it now at night full of people was a completely different experience. Waitresses in tight red skirts effortlessly bounced from table to table delivering drinks while other guests tried to get the bartenders attention. 

Music shook the walls as people danced including the scantily glad ladies on the stage smirking at all the drunk people beneath them. 

You ordered a drink and took a spot at the corner of the bar, eyeing everyone around you. 

“Twice in one week. Aren’t I lucky.”

You don’t know how you managed to miss him. Maybe it’s because Eddie looked completely different than the boy you used to know or even the man you saw a few days ago. The black suit he was wearing was tailored just for him and hugged his muscles perfectly. The red shirt beneath was unbuttoned just so allowing you to see some of those tattoos along with the silver chain that rested around his neck. 

Normally wild around his shoulders, his hair was pulled up allowing you to see all of his face and you hoped he didn’t notice when you visibly sighed. 

“Would you like to dance?”

You nod, taking his outstretched hand and allowing him to guide you to the middle of the room. 

Eddie’s arm raised just above his head and the moment he did, the music abruptly changed to something with a slower tempo. You roll your eyes playfully as he grins wide and lifts you palm in the air while his other rests on your lower back. 

“This is my club, sweetheart. I control the music…and everything else that enters…” You smirk, shaking your head. “You know, a part of me always kind of hoped you’d wander in here one day like Gatsby when he’s waiting for Daisy, throwing those parties hoping she’d show up.”

“Oh, like you read the book.”, you tease.

“There was a movie.”

When you both laugh, your body scoot a bit closer to his, your chin coming to rest on his shoulder while his palm moves a bit lower down your back. 

“You and I both know you didn’t open this club for me.”

“No…I didn’t…”

“Do you kill people, Eddie?”, you whisper, surprised he even hears you as he nods his head. 

You stop swaying, your arms circling around him as you press your nose into the nook between his neck and shoulder. 

“Y/N, I’m…I’m not the same man I was and honestly, I believe I’m better; stronger. I’m not him…I’m not Alan.”

“You would tell me about your dad and mom and I saw how much it hurt you both when he ended up in prison or he’d come home with bruises he’d take out on you.”

“I’d never hurt you, Y/N.”

“I’m not worried about me! I’m worried about you!” You pull back and his eyes meet yours. “When I gave you that ultimatum I was terrified of you getting hurt or ending up in jail because I couldn’t picture my life without you. I didn’t want to be like your mother waiting on the man I love for years to get out of prison just to end up back there again.” You shrug as tears sting your eyes. “I didn’t expect you to choose this life but I also didn’t even know you were capable of—”

While you had been venting everything that had built up over the years, your eyeline had shifted behind him allowing you to see a certain someone watching you both. 

“He’s here.”

“Who’s here?”, he asked, suddenly more alert, irises still not leaving yours. 

“That cop; officer Burke.”

“Where?”

“Eleven O’clock, my clock.”

Eddie nods, his eyes flicking to a man near the front door and who affirms something between them. 

“Get out of here, sweetheart, and don’t come back. Do you understand me?”

“What?”

“You made the right choice staying away. I’m not ashamed of who I am but it does kill me that I broke your heart. There were so many times I stood outside your store watching you seamlessly talk to people and it took all my energy not to crawl in on my hands and knees begging you to forgive me. You deserve better than some asshole like me. Now go.”

“Eddie, I—”

“GO NOW!”

Just as he shouted, the doors to the club burst open as smoke filled the area and men in masks screamed for everyone to get down. You fell back into the crowd of people trying to run but you weren’t quick enough as an officer grabbed your arm and pushed your front half against a table to cuff you. 

***

“Wow. So much for ‘haven’t seen him in five years’ and no connection, huh, Y/N?”, Officer Burke sasses, leaning against the wall as he watches you sign out and collect your things. “You look really beautiful by the way.”

“Fuck off.”, you growl. 

You hear him speak but you ignore him, stalking out of the precinct to hopefully call a cab to your car but your abruptly stopped when hands grab your wrist. 

“You should show me some respect, Y/N. You’re lucky you’re not already in a fucking cell being charged.”

“Get your hands off me! I’m sick of being grabbed by men tonight!”, you spit, pushing at his chest. 

“I know you went there to tell him I’m investigating him. You blew my chance at any kind of surprise.”

“You blew that yourself with all your bells and whistles tonight! Now this is the last time, I’m saying it. Fuck. OFF!”

“You should watch your step next time, little girl. Not just with the police but people around him. Eddie has enemies that would kill to get back at him. The first time your life is in danger and you see what his world is like you’ll come back begging to help.”

This time he does back away and tosses you your keys. 

“One of the officers drove it back. Drive safe, Y/N.”

Your nose scrunches in annoyance and you grumble the entire way home. 

Opening your front door, you immediately take off your heels with the goal of just climbing into bed as is but the feeling of a hand across your face interrupts your thoughts. 

You tumble backward at the force but bounce back quickly, hitting your assailant with the heel in your hand. You try to run but he’s faster tackling you to the wall and circling his hands around your neck. 

“Tell Eddie Munson, this is what he gets for crossing his rivals.”

“How about you tell me yourself?”

Before the person can react, Eddie knocks him over the head with one of your glass bottles and you cough as you watch both men wrestle. The long-haired boy gains the upper hand, punching him repeatedly before both men freeze when they hear a gun cock. 

Your hands shake as you point it towards the man who hit you and Eddie promptly takes off the ski mask blocking his face. 

“Who sent you?” When he didn’t answer, ringed fingers punched him again. “I don’t recognize you. Who sent you?!”

When he doesn’t answer again, you step closer and shove your tiny pistol in his face.

“Ok, ok, I’ll tell you! That cop sent me! Some detective…Burke or something…” As he spoke, Eddie placed his hand over yours signaling for you to lower the weapon. “He hired me to scare some girl and say that we were getting back at you for something you did!”

“Why?”

“He thought if he scared her maybe she’d help with an investigation or something. I don’t fucking know. I just get paid, man.”

“Yeah, well, hopefully it’s enough for the hospital bills.”

“Wha—”

Before he can finish is question, Eddie takes hold of the boy beneath him and breaks his arm making him howl in pain. 

“Everyone else already knows this but tonight you get to be a good reminder. If you come anywhere near that woman ever again I will kill you. Consider yourself lucky because no one gets a warning with me. Do you understand me?” 

When he takes too long to answer, your former best friend roughly grips the boys jaw and squeezes, seemingly satisfied when he finally gets the response he wants. Rising to his feet, he places himself in front of you until the boy limps out of your house. 

“Are you alright? Hey, look at me.”, he commands, cupping your face in his palm. 

“Yeah, I’m alright.”, you exhale, placing the gun on your counter and leaning against the nearby wall. Backing away from you, he hurriedly stalks towards your freezer and pulls out some frozen vegetables as you watch him navigate your kitchen. “How did you know he was here?”

“I saw a car follow yours from the police station and since I was closest, I thought I’d tail him to see what he was up to.”

“Since you were closest…?”

Taking your hand in his, Eddie all but drags you to your bedroom and pushes you onto the mattress before taking a seat in a chair he brought with him. You wince as he places the frozen pack on your cheek eliciting a flicker of worry to dance across his face. 

“You’ve been watching me haven’t you? All this time?”

The man before you sighs, his chest deflating as the air leaves his lungs. 

“Y/N, I’ve been protective over you since the day we met. In high school, I almost killed Tommy for making you cry after talking about your body. My dad would sometimes make little cracks about how you were ‘the safe girl’ and I punched him in the face after telling him you were my girl.”

“I didn’t know your dad even cared who I was.”

“There’s a lot you didn’t or don’t know, honey.”

“Like how ‘everyone knows’ not to hurt me?” 

Chocolate eyes meet yours as he throws the frozen veggies to the side and leans back in his seat, his elbows resting on his man spread legs.

“Right after my father went to jail, a few of the men in the group didn’t like the idea of me taking over. They said I didn’t understand the ‘nuances’ of being a leader.”, he chuckled, shaking his head. “They knew that every night after working with my dad, I would walk to your store and watch you from across the street. Watch you stock the shelves every Friday, haggle with the truck driver who dropped off new product the Thursday before…joke around with the kids that hang out outside.

Sometimes, depending on the kind of day I had or…how intense I missed you that day…I’d find my way to your house. I’d watch you put on the metal music we used to listen to when I would spend the night. Depending on YOUR day, you would pour yourself coffee or a good stiff drink and lay in your bed. They said that if I didn’t step down and give the crew to someone more experienced, they’d hurt you.”

Eddie pauses, his jaw clenching before a little sarcastic laugh leaves his lips. 

“Unfortunately for them, they couldn’t have made this threat on a worse day. The night before I had followed you to The Hideout. You wore this cute purple blouse that had this sexy corset thing going on and a black skirt that showed off your thighs. Thighs some fucker at the bar was touching. You let him drive you back home and I heard you beg, plead with him to fuck you.

That being said I wasn’t in the best mood so I shot the leader of their little group in the legs and told him if he so much as looked in your direction, his eyes would be next.”

Your own eyes continue to rake across him as he speaks. 

He said these things so matter of fact, like they were just normal pieces of everyday conversation. You never once pictured him being capable of hurting anyone this way but you’d be lying if you said the fact that he would and had to protect you…wasn’t making you feel slightly giddy.

“Everyone knows not to use you as leverage against me or hurt you in anyway but to be safe, I’ve had one of my guys keep an eye on you over the years. I’ll make sure this asshole understands that a badge doesn’t exclude him from my rules.”

You couldn’t help yourself when you climbed onto his lap, straddling his waist as you cupped his cheeks to bring his lips to yours. 

You half expected him to pull away but when his strong arms circled around you and you felt his palms against your back keeping you close, you sighed in relief. 

In all the years you two had known each other you had never been intimate in that way. Of course, people assumed and of course you wondered. You assumed if it was ever meant to happen between you two it would naturally unfold. 

You were completely unprepared for how delicious and addicting his kisses would taste. Anytime he slightly pulled back so you both could catch your breath; you chased his lips desperate to have them on you once more. 

Ringed fingers tugged at the bottom of your dress, bunching it around your waist to allow his palms to massage the meat of your ass, guiding your hips forward till your panty covered core rolled over the bulge in his slacks. 

“You said…loved…”, Eddie pants, elaborating when your eyebrows raise in confusion. “In the club, you said…you didn’t want to be like…my mom…waiting for the man you loved…” Your forehead presses to his and in return he tangles his fingers in your hair, groaning against your mouth as your hips continue to grind against his desperately seeking relief. “Did you love me, Y/N? Do you still love me?”

“I…I assumed…you didn’t love me.”, you whimper in a little voice you had never heard from yourself before. 

The long-haired man’s head straightens, his hands promptly coming down to squeeze your waist, stopping your movements. 

“What would ever make you think I didn’t love you, sweetheart?”

Your bottom lip trembles as your palms slide down to steady yourself on his shoulders. 

“You left me.”

“Oh, baby.”, he coos, gripping the back of your thighs and rising to his feet with you clinging to him. Gravity takes over as he falls with you underneath him onto your mattress. “I’m so sorry I hurt you. After our fight, I thought it was best I stay away especially after I took over my crew. Maybe…maybe I should go.”

“No, Eddie, please…”, you whine causing him to push up onto his elbows and pet your head with his hand. 

“Y/N, if we do this, if we push that boundary…”, he pauses, the tip of his nose caressing yours as he whispers, “I may never be able to let you go.”

Your neck cranes allowing your lips to mingle with his, your nails effortlessly gliding from his neck through the opening of his white shirt where you gradually unclip the rest of buttons and slide it down his shoulders to the floor. 

Soft brown eyes observe you as the pads of your fingers trace along his tattoos. 

“Can I see you, pretty girl?” When you nod, he gently kisses you before pushing back onto his knees so he could take hold of your dress and lift it over your head. “Jesus Christ, you are so beautiful.”

Eddie’s lips tenderly kiss your stomach and you mewl at the feeling as you play with his hair. 

“How do you like to be fucked, baby?”, he murmurs against your skin. “I remember when we were in high school and you would complain about the douchebags you dated. How they could never satisfy you.”

“You’re one to talk.”, you tease and he meets your smile with his own. “You always said the girls were too ‘sweet’; too nice.”

“Yeah, most woman could never handle me.” Fingers dip into the waistband of your panties and linger. “Can you handle me, honey? Say it.”, he scolds when you nod. 

“I can handle you.”

Smirking, the man abruptly rips your underwear in half with his hands and throws them to the side. 

“Do you have a safe word?”

“Never needed one.”

Kisses trail up your inner thigh, his eyes never leaving yours as he speaks. 

“How about red?”

“Say red if I need to stop.”, you relay and he smiles. 

“Good girl.”

His mouth wraps around your clit and an obscene moan leaves your chest. Gripping your meaty thighs, he holds you still as his tongue explores what he thought he would never have. Every moan and gasp had his cock pushing unbearably hard against his slacks. 

“Why did you come to the club tonight, Y/N? Hm? Were you hoping to make me jealous?”

Eddie’s fingers tease your slit, grazing your bundle of nerves before lightly tapping at it with the tips eliciting a small squeak from your lips. 

“I asked you something, sweetheart.”

“Yes, I-I wanted to—mmph—make you jealous.”

“Dangerous game to play.”, he hums, guiding two of his fingers into your entrance. “Every man that entered your bedroom these last five years is lucky they made it back home when the night was over.”

“Eddie, please.”

Suddenly, he removes his digits and lightly spanks your clit again making you whine. 

“But do you know why I didn’t kill them, Y/N?” Guiding his appendages into you once more, he sets a faster rhythm that has you squirming. “Because I knew they meant nothing to you. You threw them away as fast as you brought them in. Why is that?”

“Because…Be-because…”

“Say it, baby girl. You can do it.”

“Because they—fuck—they weren’t you.”

“That’s my good girl.”

With that, his face falls into your cunt and he devours you like a man starved. The slurping sounds that leave him as his fingers pump into your harder has your legs shaking till you stumble over the ledge coming undone.

After licking you clean, he grins as he watches your body twitch with the aftershocks of your orgasm and he crawls up the length of your frame. 

“So sexy.” His lips dance with yours as he feels you shakily unbuckle his belt, pushing you palm under the waistband of his boxers and pants. “Jesus, Y/N, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to feel your hands on my cock.”

“I never realized how big you were.”

The gangster smirks, kissing your forehead. 

“No? Not even when I slept in your bed during our sleep overs?”

“No. I never really looked at you that way.”, you answer honestly. “There’s a lot of ways I never looked at you. I…”

Your voice trails off but his eyeline follows yours when your gaze shifts.

“Ask me.”

“What do you mean—”

“No. We’ve never been like that. You and I have always been open with each other and you said you’re not afraid of me so ask.”

His tone shifted from soft to short and you couldn’t help but feel slightly defiant, your irises glaring into his. 

“Do you like being a criminal?”

That sarcastic chuckle returns and you now know it’s not something you enjoy. You start to pull your palm back but he catches your wrist, keeping you in place. 

“That’s not the real question but I’ll answer it. Do I enjoy being in charge of men who would die for me? Yes. Do I like the respect I get from everyone including strangers from this stupid fucking town that thought I was trailer trash? Yes.” His cock twitches in your hand and he guides your movements, pulling on your wrist so you’re stroking him. 

“Do I enjoy never having to worry about money as long as I live? Fuck yeah. Does it fucking make me hard that people have tried to kill or catch me and fail every time? You tell me, little girl.”, he growls, maneuvering you to pump him faster and he grunts at the feeling. 

“N-Now do I like killing and hurting people? No. But do I like protecting you and knowing that your safe? Fuck, yes. I like knowing that people are afraid to disobey me especially when it comes to you because I will—fuck—I will fucking kill anyone that hurts you. That kid is lucky I didn’t rip out his fucking throat.”

“Why didn’t you?”

Eddie’s grip tightens as he stops guiding you before pulling your hand back and placing your arm around his neck. 

“If I killed him here that cop could try and charge you whereas his arm being broken could only be seen as you defending yourself. He’s already looking for ways to blackmail you but I won’t allow that.”

Taking ahold of his length, he runs the tip through your folds. 

“Ask me your real question, Y/N.”

“Was it worth it?”, you whisper. “Choosing this over me.”

Involuntary tears fall down your cheeks and without hesitation, Eddie tilts down to kiss them away, resting his head beside yours. 

“No, baby. Nothing is worth the pain I put you through.” Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as he buried his face into the nook between your neck and shoulder and slowly began to press his tip into your entrance. “Oh my fucking God.”

“Eddie?” The man grunts at the sound of his name, lost in the feeling of your tight pussy squeezing around him. “I love you.” Something ignites within him at those three words that’s punctuated with a firm slam of his hips into yours punching his cock deeper into your core. “Fuck, Eddie.”

“That’s it, baby girl. Moan—mmph shit—moan my name. Y-Your mine.”

“Yours. Fuck, harder, Eddie.”

Pushing up onto his palms, his chain swings in front of your face as he honors your request and pounds into you so hard your bed begins to shake. You were a complete mess beneath him and you loved it. Loved the way his thick cock stretched your pussy open, the way your walls dragged along every vein desperate to keep him inside of you. The way his intense eyes took in every twitch and jiggle of your body with every pump of his hips. Each moan was like music and you loved the sound. 

“None of those…those other guys had you feeling this good did they?”

“No.”

Ringed fingers circled around your throat as his fingers squeezed and your eyes rolled. 

“Do better.”

“N-No, Eddie, they never made me—fuck—feel this good.”

“BETTER, Y/N!”

At his growled words, your back arched as your nails ran down his arm pinning you to the mattress. 

“No one has ever fucked my pussy like you! No one has ever been so deep inside me, Eddie, fuck. Please, I need you to cum inside me. Please!”

Leaning flat against you once more, he licked the pads of his fingers and brought them to your clit, rubbing fast circles that matched his pace. 

“Cum for me, baby. Cum all over my fucking dick.” Your face scrunches as the ball in your tummy winds tight. “You can do it. Cum for me and scream my name when you do so everyone knows who your cunt belongs to.”

Eddie winces slightly when your nails dig into the skin of his back but those are marks he’d wear proudly. Especially when you do what he commanded and came shouting his name to your ceiling. 

“Shit—good girl. Good fucking girl!” The man fucks your through your bliss waiting patiently for you to come down before finding his rhythm once more while he whispers in your ear. “I’m going to give you want, sweetheart. I’m gonna give you my cum but once I do—mmph—it seals the deal, Y/N. Once I cum inside you, you’re mine. MINE. I’ll kill any man that so much as even thinks about touching you. That little game you played tonight will have consequences in the future.”

The gangster lifts his head so his eyes can lock with yours and you know he’s telling the truth. 

“Now…beg for my cum.”

Your hand lazily reaches up, brushing the lose strands of his hair away from his sweaty forehead and you know in that moment you’re his. 

You always were. 

You spent five years without him and it was like torture. No…your heart couldn’t handle that again. You’d rather die than not have him in your life. 

“Cum, Eddie. Please. Fill me up and make me yours. Please, baby. I’m yours.”

He grunts at your words, his head falling as he succumbs to the feeling of you. After a couple more rough thrusts, Eddie pumps his release into your core, pleasantly warming your insides. 

Both your pants fill the quiet room until your little whine replaces it as he tries to carefully pull out. 

“I know, baby, I know.”, he murmurs, climbing off your body to buckle his pants before lifting you into his arms to bring you to your bathroom. “Jesus, your place is fucking small.”

“I own a convenience store not a night club.”, you joke making him smile as he gets your bath ready. “Eddie?”

“Hm?”

“Were you telling the truth? When you said my pain wasn’t worth…everything…”

Sighing, he sits on the edge of your tub and takes your hand in his. 

“Yes, I was. Y/N, while I love what I do, it never compared to how I felt with you. I thought I was doing the right thing by staying away. You told me to choose and I knew then you didn’t want to be in THIS life with me. I thought maybe you were afraid of the life…or me… But I’m good at what I do, sweetheart.”

“I’m not afraid of you. I’m afraid of losing you again.”

Bringing your palm to his lips, he gives you a soft kiss. 

“You never lost me, honey. I was always here, always yours.” Reaching for the facet, he stops the water and guides you in, delicately cleaning your skin. “I understand if you want to take things slow. Like I said, you are safe and, of course, you’re welcome to come and stay at my place.”

“At the club? With your guns and drugs?”

Eddie smiles at your teasing, playfully pushing your cheek making you laugh. 

“Shows how much you know. My product isn’t there and everything within the club is relatively legit.” You make a face and his grin grows. “There’s a lot you need to learn, pretty girl, but first… may I buy you breakfast?”

“MAY you?”, you giggle. 

“Hey now, I’m a fucking gentleman.”

“Yeah, you are.” When he leans down to gently kiss your lips, his whole energy lights up the way it used to when you were kids. “Can we sleep for a bit? Between a jail cell, being threatened, being attacked, and having my best friend who’s a gangster back in my life…I’m kinda tired.”

“I’ll bet. Yeah, baby, we can sleep. Are you sure you don’t need any space or?”

When you shake your head, Eddie lifts you out of your bath and continues doing thorough aftercare till you were tucked safely in bed. You wait patiently as you hear him unbuckle his belt and his pants drop to the floor, smiling wide to yourself when you feel him crawl in behind you and promptly wrap his arms around your waist.

“Eddie? I love you.”

A throaty chuckle leaves him as he tilts down to kiss your cheek. 

“I love hearing you say that. I love you to, Y/N, since the day I met you.”

“Hey Eddie?”

“What, freak? I thought you were tired!”, he jests, petting some of your hair away from your face. 

“Promise me you won’t leave me again.”

The gangster’s smile faulters for a moment but thankfully you can’t see him. Even he knows there are risks; you mentioned that’s why you gave him the ultimatum. That doesn’t erase the fact that one wrong move could get him incarcerated or even killed. Thankfully, he WAS good at what he did but he couldn’t deny that this Officer Burke was going to make things exceptionally difficult. 

But he just got you back and he wasn’t about to lose you now. 

Sliding further under your covers, Eddie pulled you tighter against his chest with your head nuzzled perfectly under his chin. 

“I promise, sweetheart.”

########################

Eddie Masterlist

Just tagging the regulars :)

You know you need to talk to Noah. Your mind has been racing nonstop recently. There is so much you need to say to him but you have no idea how to go about it. You’ve become familiar with a looming sense of dread.

Ever since you and Noah first started dating, you knew what you were getting into. You knew you would have to deal with everything that comes with having an aspiring musician for a partner: late night studio trips, sharing in their successes, the grueling ordeal of touring and being away from home for extended periods of time.

And for years you were the most understanding person in Noah’s life. He knew he could always count on you to understand if plans didn’t go just right or the frustration he felt on not getting a song just how he wanted, how perfect he knew it could be. You were his rock and his biggest supporter since the beginning.

Noah always made sure you were taken care of. He made sure you were comfortable and happy, and always let you know how grateful he was for you and your endless support of Bad Omens. He praised you above all else.

But lately, ever since the band blew up really, you have felt like you’ve been stuck on the sidelines. Like nothing you do is good enough. You feel neglected and thrown to the side whilst Noah basks in the glory of being the leading man of a highly successful metal band. He feels further away from you than he ever has.

You’ve had enough. You have spent too many nights alone, crying and doubting everything you have done for your boyfriend. Your mind has been going haywire with the possibilities of why he would have turned so cold towards you.

Maybe he never wanted you around for the bliss of success and fame. Maybe he doesn’t want to be seen with you, knowing just how many people would kill to be in your position. Maybe he’s forgotten how much you mean to him and what you’ve done for him.

What you’ve sacrificed.

Because you have sacrificed a great deal for Noah. From moving in with him after the release of their second album, leaving behind your friends and family to live with him. To staying up late and worrying about his wellbeing while he’s on the other side of the country, or in a different country entirely. So many nights spent full of tears and anxiety, hoping the silence on his end is just because he’s asleep and not something else.

But you continued to be supportive and understanding with everything he told you. About how exhausted he is after shows, or how the guys wanted to go out some nights. You would tell him it was alright, as long as he was safe.

Everything eventually came to a head. As all terrible things do.

Bad Omens just announced their next tour. Noah was ecstatic about it and raving about the setlist ideas he had been coming up with. He was so excited and happy to be getting back on the road.

Leaving you. Again. For what felt like the millionth time in the span of a decade. That’s what made you realize you needed to talk to him.

“Hey, babe?”

Noah looks up at you from his laptop, swiveling in his chair to face you.

“What’s up?” he says as you slowly walk towards him.

You take a seat on the extra chair he has in his at-home studio. You force yourself to look at him instead of at your hands, that are anxiously tangled together in your lap.

It’s now or never, you tell yourself.

“I wanted to talk to you,” you begin timidly.

“What’s going on?” Noah asks with a furrowed brow. He stretches his legs out on either side of your chair. “Is something wrong?”

“Yes. Something is wrong.” You swallow nervously, your eyes darting across every inch of Noah’s face. You are so scared right now. “And I wanted to say something before you left for tour.”

Noah stays silent but keeps his worried eyes on you. The blatant concern on his face almost makes this worse.

“Ever since Bad Omens blew up, I feel like I’ve been pushed aside,” you explain quietly. “Like my feelings don’t matter, or just that I don’t matter as much as the band’s success. And don’t get me wrong: I am so incredibly proud of you and what you’ve accomplished! But I feel like I’m on the outside of everything.”

You watch as the concern on Noah’s face gradually shifts to confusion.

“I don’t understand,” he says. “What do you mean like your feelings don’t matter? Or that you’re on the outside of everything?”

“I feel like you care more about the band than you do about me,” you tell him. Blood is roaring in your ears once you finally admit it out loud. “Like my needs and wants come after the band’s. I feel neglected compared to the band, Noah.”

That confusion has settled. But it takes a turn as Noah remains quiet, clearly taking in everything you’ve said. Nerves are clawing at your insides as you wait for him to say something.

You watch as his eyebrows scrunch into something akin to frustration, or maybe annoyance. Whichever it is, though, has your stomach flipping uncomfortably.

“You’re not secondary to the band, babe,” he tells you. His words feel scripted and too thought out. Like he’s reading from a teleprompter. “You never have been.”

“Then why do I feel like this, Noah?” You choke briefly on your words, the familiar sensation of tears burning your throat. “If I’m not secondary to your precious band, then why do you care more about it than you do about me? Your girlfriend?”

“Well, I would think you would’ve understood what you were signing up for when I started all this.”

Tears immediately spring to your eyes when he says that. Your heart is thrashing inside your chest. Searing pain blooms just behind your sternum and is steadily spreading out all over your body. You’re scared you might have a panic attack.

Through blurry vision, you can see the moment Noah fully processes what he said. Then he’s kneeling down in front of you and trying to get you to look at him. But you keep avoiding his eyes as you are closing in on yourself.

“Shit. Baby, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that,” he murmurs softly, his hands hesitantly closing around your wrists. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“You did. You did mean it,” you sob. Tears are rolling down your cheeks and your head is spinning.

Noah ignores you and continues to whisper sweet things in your ear. His arms have wound around your waist and he’s pulled you down on the floor with him. His hands go under your shirt, carefully holding you and touching you softly. You hardly notice the feeling of his lips down the column of your neck.

When one of his hands begins trailing lower and lower down your back, you finally come to. With a heavy sob, you push against his chest, muttering, “No, stop. Noah, stop.”

And thankfully he does. His kisses cease and his hands stop moving. You hate the look on his face when he meets your eyes. He seriously thought this would help.

“Don’t,” you whisper. “I don’t want that right now. I want you to understand, like I have for years. Why don’t you get it?”

Noah says nothing. Your heart is breaking.

“You’re unbelievable.” You sniffle and wipe at your nose, before saying, “I’m leaving. I’m gonna go stay with April and Preston for a while. We’re taking a break until you can come to your senses about what’s really important to you.”

Without waiting for an answer, doubting you would have gotten one anyways, you tear yourself away from Noah. You leave him on the floor of his recording room as you make your way to your shared bedroom where you begin gathering clothes and whatever else you’ll need while away from home. You text April that you did it and you’re coming over now.

Your best friend April was the only person you could trust to vent your emotions to about all this. She had noticed how Noah had been drifting away from you the past couple years, but never knew how to tell you or bring it up. So she had been more than okay with you staying with her and her husband, Preston until Noah came around. If he came around.

Pain and shame overtake your entire body as you move about your room. You stuff everything you need into a couple bags, hoping you haven’t missed anything.

With your bags in hand and an endless supply of tears falling down your face, you make your way to the front door to leave. You walk past Noah’s studio to find the door closed. You scoff quietly before finally leaving the house you share with Noah.

Your phone buzzes from your pocket once you’ve gotten your things into your car. You look down at it with bleary eyes to see a text from April.

Me: i’m omw. he thought having sex would fix everything.

April💛: WHOOOOORE

April💛: i’m really proud of you for doing that, love. your feelings are 110% valid and he’s a dick for not understanding or even trying to fix things. preston made chicken noodle soup for dinner when you get here <3

The tears fall even faster at your best friend’s comfort. A sob rips through your chest as you shakily start your car and begin driving towards her house.

When you arrive, April and Preston are already outside. The tears had eventually taken a pause over the course of your drive, but make a resurgence when Preston doesn’t hesitate to pull you into his arms.

Preston has always been like a brother to you. He is one of the kindest and most giving people you have ever met. He is also extremely protective of you and would definitely fight someone in your honor. In the back of your mind, you tuck that information away for another time.

He just rocks you back and forth as April gets your bags from the backseat of your car, then she’s hugging you from your other side and resting her head on your shoulder. You don’t think you’ve ever cried this hard.

Finally, both of them pull away from you and guide you into the house. April informs you that the guest room is all yours and that you can stay as long as you’d like. Part of you hopes you don’t have to stay too long, at least until Noah gets his shit together and you can go back home.

You eat Preston’s homemade chicken noodle soup with your friends before you’re trudging to their guest room. That familiar sense of dread is consuming you.

Then you’re sitting alone in the room later that evening. You’re alone with your thoughts, which is never a good thing.

You wonder if Noah is anywhere near remorseful for how he treated you, if he truly meant what he said. But you know he did. He meant those words the moment they left his mouth, which hurts more than you care to admit. He knew what was happening and knew how it was affecting you. But he just didn’t care.

You wonder if Noah will chase after you, realizing what he has done and said was wrong. Because even if he meant what he said that doesn’t mean he thought it was okay. Maybe he’ll make things right because he knew he fucked up and wants to fix your relationship.

You wonder if fixing your relationship is even worth it.

But you’re on a break, you said it yourself. So until Noah either decides he wants to fix things between you two or if he decides fame really is more important than you, then you are simply on a break.

That’s what you keep telling yourself for the next few weeks.

You go to work and hang out with April all the same. You go about your day like nothing is wrong, like your thoughts aren’t consumed by Noah and what he’s feeling this very moment. You pretend you aren’t going crazy with anxiety as the first tour date is rapidly coming up.

But even then, you keep yourself busy. You watch countless movie marathons with April and Preston. You work later than you should just so you don’t have to sit alone with your mind. You make an attempt to stop thinking about Noah for the time being.

But it’s hard. Keeping Noah out of your head is remarkably difficult. He is your biggest comfort in the entire world, so suddenly letting go of that after ten years of being together is more than jarring. Whenever you think you have successfully gone a day without a single thought about him, he always creeps back in somehow. Like he belongs there. Like he’s been imprinted on your soul for eternity.

Today is especially hard. It’s the first date of Bad Omens’ tour, and it is all you can think about.

Noah hasn’t reached out to you ever since you declared the break, so you can’t imagine how thrilled he must be to not be worrying about you while traveling and performing. He is probably much more focused on the songs and the fans.

You’re out at dinner with April and Preston. You had reluctantly agreed to go out with them. But you know it was a better idea than lying in bed and looking for concert updates throughout the night on your phone.

“Oh, you’re fucking kidding,” April suddenly mutters.

You look up at her to see her glaring at something from over your shoulder. You glance back and see what she was referring to. There was a family eating a few tables down. One of the girls was wearing a Bad Omens shirt. You immediately avert your gaze, finding your meal much more interesting.

“You’re not about to go fight a sixteen year old, are you?” Preston casually questions his wife as he takes a bite of his food.

“No. But who does she think she is?” April goes on angrily. “Get that shit out of here. We’re on a break from Bad Omens, thank you very much.”

“You say it like it’s your relationship,” Preston remarks teasingly.

“It might as well be. If it affects my best friend, it affects me too,” April says. “So yes, we are on a break from Bad Omens, Preston. Get with the program.”

A small smile graces your face at your best friend’s antics. Seeing her so fired up when it comes to your wellbeing makes your chest swell with adoration. But then the sadness kicks in, and you suddenly can’t stop thinking about Noah.

He’s probably performing on stage at this very second, you realize. He’s probably already singing to a crowd of thousands of adoring fans who make him happier than you ever could.

As your dinner goes on, you find yourself softly humming a few Bad Omens songs in comfort. If April and or Preston noticed, neither of them said anything.

Once you’re back at their place, you excuse yourself for the night. You fully anticipate on crashing as soon as you get in bed. But you end up stuck on TikTok, scrolling endlessly. You go nearly an hour without any Bad Omens content or any mention of them, before there is one video of them. It’s a brief clip someone got of Dying To Love. Your heart aches as you watch it, knowing you shouldn’t.

But you can’t help it. Noah’s vocals are beautiful and the surging sensation of home you feel at hearing his voice for the first time in several weeks has you suffocating.

He sounds anguished, full of pain. Well, considering the topic of the particular song you would think he’d up the ante a bit for the stage. But there’s something about the way he sings it that is suggesting otherwise.

Something is off with Noah. And you hate that you can make that observation even through a phone screen.

After watching the clip a couple more times you eventually shut off your phone and go to bed. Your dreams are plagued by a dark figure who radiates warmth and love, a familiarity. You never see their face.

You avoid social media as much as you can for the next month or so. You do not want to see Noah’s face anywhere on your phone. At even the faintest mention of Bad Omens, you scroll away quickly or exit the app completely. You’re on a break, which means you shouldn’t be looking out for anything related to Noah or the band.

You stopped keeping track of their tour dates. Except for their final show so you know when Noah gets home. But you don’t tell April about it because you know she would get stern with you, saying something about how it doesn’t matter; let him come to you, blah, blah, blah.

And you’re going to, let him come to you, that is. You will not crawl back to him and beg for the break to be over. You need Noah to prove he’s sorry himself.

It’s the day after Bad Omens’ final show, and you’re antsy. Jumping at the slightest sound or movement. You can see how worried April and Preston are for you throughout the day. They eventually decide to have another movie marathon in order to take your mind off things. You happily accept.

But one of the movies they want to watch can’t be found on any streaming services. However, you know you own it on DVD. When you offer to drive home and grab it, April immediately shuts it down.

“No way. What if Noah is home and he tries to bewitch you or something?” she argues. “No bewitching until you’re ready.”

You almost laugh at her word choice. But instead you say, “I’ll be fine. Noah shouldn’t even be home yet so I can just run in and grab it, no problem. No bewitching will be had.”

“But what if he is home?” April pushes. You know she’s just looking out for you but you know you can handle yourself, too. “What if he’s a dick and won’t let you leave? What if he donated the DVD without you knowing? What if—“

You watch as Preston shuts her up with a brief kiss before turning towards you. His eyes are steady as he looks at you, a message in their depths you can’t begin to decipher right now.

“If Noah is home, she’ll be fine,” he assures April, who is fuming at his side. “If anything happens, she can text or call us. Just be careful, okay?” he adds as he looks back at you. That big brother side of his is readily apparent as you maintain eye contact.

“I will,” you say. “I’ll be fine. I have my phone if anything happens. I love you, guys.”

“Love you,” Preston and April call after you as you exit the house.

You drive over to your own house with a slight tremor in your hands. But you manage to pull into the driveway without any attack or breakdown of any kind. You steady yourself as you look up at the darkened building. All the lights are off. No sign of life, despite Noah’s car next to yours that hasn’t been used since before he left for tour. You know that for a fact. Because once you’re inside you see his car keys sitting on the little table by the front door.

Relief floods your system as you flip on a couple lights. You make your way upstairs to the shelf in the extra bedroom that holds all of your DVD and CD cases. You scan the spine of each case before you eventually find the movie you’re looking for. And now, you can leave without having seen Noah at all.

You curse yourself for bad timing as you make your way down the staircase, because there is Noah stepping through the front door. He’s shoved all of his bags to the side and is staring wide eyed at you. He must’ve gotten an Uber from the airport.

“Oh, uh, hi,” you say awkwardly, pausing on the last step and clutching the DVD case tightly.

“Hey,” he breathes out. He takes a pace in your direction without looking away from you. “What are you doing here?”

He doesn’t say it rudely or anything, but with genuine shock and curiosity. He obviously didn’t think he would be seeing you as soon as he got home from tour.

“Just grabbing a movie,” you tell him. You’re growing uncomfortable and anxious under his unyielding gaze. “I was just leaving. I’m not staying.”

When you attempt to step around him to get to the door, he quickly moves in front of it, blocking your way. Frustration has your stomach roiling and you almost smack him across the face with the DVD in your hands. But you restrain yourself.

“Please move, Noah,” you request softly, avoiding his eyes.

“Can we talk?” he says, ignoring you. “Please?”

He sounds desperate. You don’t think you have ever heard him sound so desperate or anything of the sort. He is usually so sure of himself, confident. But when you finally manage to look back at him you see the visible cracks in his exterior. The nicks in the armor he wears. And the desperation in his normally warm brown eyes has you biting your tongue.

You almost say no, just so you can get out of this situation. However, you told yourself you would let Noah come to you if he wanted to fix things. He has come to you, hasn’t he? He’s here, wanting to talk.

You nod stiffly in reply. Relief is bright in his irises as you both step into the living room.

“It’s good to see you,” he begins, almost like he doesn’t know what to say.

“You too,” you murmur as you sit down in one of the armchairs, Noah choosing the couch. And it is so good to see him. You hate how good it feels, to see his face after so long of no contact.

“Wh-What have you been up to?” he goes on.

You hate this. You hate how he’s starting out with smalltalk, probably getting a gauge on how you’re doing and what you’re feeling at the moment. It takes a tremendous amount of effort not to snap at him and urge him to get on with it already.

“I’ve been working mostly,” you respond politely. “How was tour?”

A flash of.. something crosses Noah’s face at the mention of tour. His features fall slightly and you fear you may have made a mistake.

“Umm…” His brows furrow and he looks down at his hands. His elbows are resting on his knees so he’s hunched forward, but you can see the tension in his shoulders anyways. “It was fine,” he finally says. “I, uh… I did a lot of thinking while I was gone though and I wanted to apologize.”

Noah’s hands are shaking and it’s taking everything in you not to kneel down in front of him and help him calm down. Because he wants to apologize? What does he mean by that?

“I’m sorry.” His voice is a near whisper as he continues. “I’m sorry I made you feel like you were second best to the band. I’m sorry I made you feel like you were being neglected, because I know I neglected you for a long time. I’m sorry I never put you first when you’re seriously the most important thing in my life. Bad Omens wouldn’t be where it is if it wasn’t for your love and support. And I took you for granted instead of thanking you like I should’ve been.”

Noah pauses to take a shaky deep breath, his gaze still wholly focused on his hands. There’s a heat behind your eyes as he speaks.

“The guys kinda ripped into me when I told them what happened,” he says with a self-deprecating laugh. He sniffles. “They tore me a new one and more or less threatened me with bodily harm if I didn’t fix things. I’ve never seen them so upset with me.”

His voice falters on that last sentence. Your grip on the movie case is painfully tight and it’s hurting your knuckles. But you don’t let go.

“Nick did pull me aside one night though,” Noah says. “He told me that if I really loved you and didn’t want to lose you, then I would do anything it takes to make things right. Because I love you and I hate myself for hurting you. I really fucking love you. I don’t know where I would be without you.” He finally looks up at you, and you’re met with his teary eyes and remorse written across his face. “I shouldn’t have said that to you, even if it’s how I felt. It was wrong. I fucked up. But I want to make it right. I can’t go another month without you when you are all I want.”

The pain in Noah’s voice has your eyes blurring with tears. You have never heard him get so emotional when apologizing for something, which tells you he means this. He means every word of this apology and genuinely wants to make things right. But you can’t suppress the fear that has been accumulating in your chest for so long.

“Noah, I…”

You don’t know what to say. You don’t know what you want right now. Besides Noah. You want Noah more than anything.

“I appreciate the apology,” you say at last. “I’m glad the guys were able to talk some sense into you. But you really hurt me, then you expected to mend what you said by fucking me. That hurt even more. Not everything can be fixed with sex, you know.”

“That was so fucking stupid,” Noah mutters, seemingly mostly to himself. “I’m so sorry for that,” he tells you. “I have no excuse for that except my own stupidity. I shouldn’t have done that to you.”

“Why did you start putting the band first?”

Your question catches Noah off guard. You can see it in his eyes as he contemplates what to say.

“I don’t know,” he admits quietly. “I’ve always wanted to take care of you and provide for you. But I guess in the process I ended up prioritizing the band when I should have been prioritizing you and your needs. I can live without the band and the fame, but I can’t live without you.”

Your heart wrenches viciously inside your chest. Tears are threatening to fall down as you internally battle with your morals.

Noah means every word he’s saying. You know him far too well to think otherwise. And the fact that he is acknowledging how he has hurt you and made you feel without trying to defend himself is a relatively good sign, you think. He would be blaming you instead of admitting his faults and shortcomings.

“You’re really fucking stupid.” Your words are shaky and hesitant but you see Noah flinch at them regardless. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m hurt. I’ve supported you and your dreams long before we got together,” you remind him. “I never thought twice about leaving home and moving in with you. I put so much blind trust in you because I was in love with you. I am in love with you. That’s why this hurts so fucking bad, Noah. Because if you really loved me you wouldn’t have let it get this bad, and you would have chased after me the night I left. You would have fought for me. For us.”

Noah makes you jump when he drops to the floor and is then kneeling in front of you. He grasps the arms of the chair on either side of you, essentially boxing you in.

“I should have gone after you. I should have begged you to stay and let me fix things so we wouldn’t be in this situation right now,” he tells you. His voice is strained and he’s breathing heavily. “I pretended to be okay with this break we’re on for your sake, because you requested it and I wanted to honor it. But god, fuck this break. I hate this space between us. Please let me fix things. I want to make this right. Please, baby.”

Tears are now streaming down your face. Noah is quite literally begging on his knees for you. Begging for you back and promising to make everything right again. You want to be a bitch and demand he take back every single word he said to you that night, as well as all the things he’s said and done to you over the past couple of years. But those big brown doe eyes staring at you, pleading with every fiber of his being, have your heart squeezing and racing.

“I accept your apology,” you whisper shakily. You watch as Noah’s shoulders sag with relief. “I’m holding you to your word though. I know Bad Omens is important to you and is literally your life, but don’t forget about me or us, okay?”

“I won’t. I swear I will make it up to you. Whatever you want. I promise.”

He repeats those two words a handful of times under his breath as he openly stares at you. His eyes are bright with hope and his tears are subsiding.

Whatever you want.

All you want is Noah.

You stare at each other a bit longer before Noah hesitantly brings one of his shaking hands to your face. It pauses several inches away, almost like he thinks he doesn’t deserve to touch you. But you lean into his hand without a word, and you see him visibly melt.

You close your eyes as you take a deep breath. You cherish the warmth of his hand against your cheek and breathe out through your mouth.

“I’ve missed you so much, angel,” Noah murmurs reverently, as he traces your bottom lip with the tip of his thumb. His touch is light and soft.

“I’ve missed you too,” you respond.

You look at him again to see his attention is solely on your lips. You kiss the pad of his thumb and watch him shudder at the brief contact. There is a sudden but familiar heat in your belly at the look on his face.

“Baby?”

Your voice comes out as a whisper but it catches Noah’s attention all the same. He looks at you like you are the sole reason he exists. Like you are the very air he breathes. He isn’t trying to hide how badly he wants to make things up to you, in more ways than one.

“Can—“ You swallow nervously. You haven’t been this nervous around Noah in years. “Can you show me how sorry you are? Please?”

Noah is dumbfounded by your question. But he is quick to say “Anything for you” before pushing up on his knees and connecting your mouths.

The kiss is brutal and messy and passionate. Need spreads from your belly all throughout your body as you gladly let Noah claim every inch of your mouth. Both of his hands grab at your waist and tug without moving you, a silent request to pull you down on top of him. And so you grab at his shoulders and slide off the chair until you’re straddling his lap, movie case forgotten.

Noah’s hands are everywhere. From your stomach to your thighs, all the way up to your neck and head. He touches anywhere he can reach, his palms leaving hot brands on your skin as he goes. He seems to be making up for lost time.

Your own hands ride up under his sweatshirt, your nails clawing at his tattooed ribs in desperation. You need him against you. You need to feel him. You need him.

You shove the bottom of his sweatshirt upwards until he takes it off the rest of the way himself, along with the t-shirt he had on underneath. Then he’s pulling off your own shirt and bra and touching you all over again.

His skin is hot against yours. It’s almost scalding to the touch. But you revel in the heat and throw your head back once his lips have begun migrating downwards. Kissing and sucking at your neck, biting at your skin until you’re a moaning, pliant mess.

Eventually, Noah pulls back and lays you down on the floor. His face is flushed a bright red as he stares at you, looming above you. With his hair falling into his eyes, he looks absolutely devastating.

Then you let him take off your pajama pants and he has you screaming and moaning from just his tongue. The grip he has on you is definitely going to bruise in the shape of his fingerprints, but you couldn’t care less. Nothing matters when he is humming into your pussy and savoring the taste of you as you come with a shout of his name. Not even when your thighs are squeezing his head and his tongue is still going wild between your folds.

The slide of Noah’s cock pushing into you is all that matters to you. The stretch is overwhelming, almost too much after so long. But he’s gentle and patient as you become reacquainted his with size, only moving when you’re begging him.

The only thing that matters are the apologies and promises he whispers in the valley between your breasts. Things that are on the verge of being prayers. Words spoken in time with the tightening of your walls around him.

Your hands in his hair and your nails dragging down the tattooed expanse of his back. His lips on your skin. The collision of your hips with each thrust.

Everything else fades away.

Nothing else matters besides when you’re moaning his name at the moment of both of your releases. The dizzying sensation of his come trailing down your thighs as he slowly pulls out.

Your mind finally clears when you feel Noah pulling you into his chest. The gentle movement of his hand up and down your spine calming every nerve inside of you. You hum, blissed out and happy.

“I missed this,” you whisper against his chest. “I missed you.”

“Me too,” Noah says. He places soft, slow kisses along your sweaty forehead and cheeks. “I love you so much.”

“I love you so much.”

As you bask in the afterglow and relish in each other’s presence, the sudden incessant vibrating of your phone startles you. You sit up off the floor at the sound and reach for the device to see endless texts from both April and Preston asking if you’re okay, where you are, why you’re not answering.

“Oh, fuck,” you mutter. “April and Preston are worried about me. I told them I wouldn’t be that long.”

Noah laughs against your back, the timber of his voice echoing throughout your abdomen.

“Tell them you’re okay,” he suggests, shifting up onto his hands as you do so.

But as you’re formulating a response to your best friend, Noah is leaving openmouthed kisses across your shoulders and neck. His teeth tug slightly at your earlobe. You have to retype the message.

“Noah, stop for a second,” you say halfheartedly.

“Why? Am I distracting you?”

“Yes. You’re very distracting. Just hang on—“

“But I’m not done apologizing yet, angel.”

And with that, after all is said and done, you send April a simple “i’m ok” before tossing your phone aside and climbing on top of Noah. You’re very keen on him apologizing all night.

thank you so much for reading! hope you enjoyed! likes and reblogs are very much appreciated <3

masterlist.

It had been a chase for so long that Noah had nearly lost himself in the rhythm of it. Will always seemed intent on taking Noah apart — slicing away the layers, digging around in his messy bits, spilling everything out where he could see and shape it. Noah had started to see it all as something rather one-sided: Will wanted to take, presumably until all that was left was a husk to discard, but he had no interest in offering something in turn. 

Noah wasn’t particularly invested in why that was or the inner mechanisms that led to that hoarding of self on Will’s part. Honestly, it wasn’t even particularly upsetting or even unattractive; he still toed along that quivering tightrope of temptation every time he breathed the same air as Will, particularly when it was only the two of their bodies in a space (an outcome Will seemed more than skilled at orchestrating).

What it did mean, though, was that Will once more managed to catch Noah completely off-guard. They were both at some event that Noah had to be coerced into attending; he lingered toward the edges, having done his required mingling and chatting, and was wondering how long he had to be physically present before he could leave when he caught sight of familiar pink curls.

Will always found some way to corner Noah — it was literally this time, a surprising feat given that Will wasn’t short but he was rather slight. It should have been easy to step past him. And Noah tried one, two, three times before giving up, huffing loudly at how Will’s energetic self managed to wiggle into the same space Noah was moving toward each time.

“You know,” Will started, tilting his head and grinning, “you’d think you didn’t like me with how hard you tried to avoid me.” Which meant he knew that Noah was avoiding him but didn’t care. For some reason, that was more frustrating than the potential of Will having somehow missed Noah’s efforts.

Noah’s brow pinched and he shoved his hands in his pockets to hide the way his fingers curled and tightened. He wasn’t someone known for violence, and he wasn’t keen on changing that aspect of his public persona now. “I don’t like you, Will.” It was more than the death metal singer had gotten out of Noah before, and he recognized what a mistake that was when Will’s entire face lit up like he had been offered something valuable and precious.

Any semblance of personal space was strained at best when Will was around, but the very notion was discarded for the way Will trailed fingers up Noah’s chest as if they weren’t in a crowded, bustling room. A room with strangers, people Noah wished were strangers, fellow artists that held ill intent toward Noah for whatever reason. A room with phones and cameras.

Will’s voice cut through the panic swelling in the back of Noah’s mind, audibly rushing in his ears. “I think it’s because you’re scared,” he remarked, and the way he flashed dimples as punctuation felt odd and out of place.

Noah blinked at Will, face smoothing out into something barren and blank. That seemed to be his tell with Will: where most people saw Noah’s neutral face as something disinterested or perhaps annoyed, Will appeared to be the only individual who identified it correctly. It was a protective measure — he was hiding some sort of knee-jerk reaction he didn’t want observed, was shoving an emotion or urge or thought down deep enough the surface didn’t even ripple.

“That’s how I caught you, you know. How I figured out what you were.” Will’s voice was pitched lower than usual, a rasp to it that almost echoed the demonic vocals he was known for. Brown eyes were still intent and rapt, but now his gaze had darkened and intensified.

A twitch at Noah’s jaw, the first crack in the facade he seemed to always wear when Will was near. “I don’t know what you think I am, but you’re insane. And don’t touch me. People are looking,” he snapped, instantly recognizing the remark tacked on at the end as a mistake.

It was a misstep Will didn’t call him out on, though, at least for the moment. Instead, he laughed and pulled his hand back, held both up and showed Noah his palms. For the gesture of good intent, he didn’t allow Noah any sort of physical space; there was no step back, and he continued to lean in toward Noah slightly. “We could go somewhere they can’t watch us.” He said the words idly, as if there wasn’t a weight to the offer.

Noah’s gaze flicked around the room, bouncing between people and faces, taking in those who had their attention on the vocalists in the corner and those who were oblivious. He kept a tally, gauged the risks; even as he conducted that mental math, though, he responded to Will. “Why would I go anywhere with you?”

The question was posed with the intention of being rhetorical. There were countless answers that would entice Noah, but nothing Will could say would tip the balance Noah had labored so hard to maintain. At least, that was what he had thought when the words left him. But then Will stretched up, mouth hovering next to Noah’s ear as he breathed, “I want you to ruin me.” A pause before Will pulled back to meet Noah’s guarded gaze.

Will was a lot of things, but he also seemed to be earnest about most things he said — though there was always the chance that such an observation was also incorrect. After all, Will was disproving one vital theory Noah had held thus far with such a simple, flippant, blatantly horny remark. It took him a moment to process the words, but then Will tipped his chin up a little, bared his throat a bit, and Noah’s brain seemed to short-circuit.

Noah leaned in now, whispered in Will’s ear with a jaw so tight and taut that his teeth audibly snapped when they met. “I’m leaving out the front door. You’re going to wait a few minutes and then follow. If anyone sees us together outside of this room tonight, Ramos, you’re dead,” he threatened, though he assumed the rumble to his words would be more arousing than frightening.

And the way Will’s pupils reacted when he pulled back confirmed that assumption. Great. “I’ll be on my best behavior,” Will promised regardless, taking a Scout’s oath with a bright, toothy expression lighting his features.

Which was how they ended up crowding into a rental together — Noah and his bandmates had carpooled oddly to the event; it meant that Noah would have to placate an annoyed Nicholas with some sort of present or peace offering for taking the car but wasn’t leaving anyone stranded. Besides, Noah had made it clear that he had no interest in being at the event, so they’d all assume that Noah had simply not wanted to wait any longer to depart.

The abrupt disappearance would probably not, in their minds, involve Will in the passenger seat, one foot kicked up on the dash and hands idly fiddling with a pocket knife that he’d apparently brought to the event. How security had neglected to locate and confiscate the weapon was beyond Noah, but the sight was a bit distracting as he tried to drive.

Noah’s knuckles whitened with how tightly he gripped the wheel, forcing his gaze to remain on the road. A particularly long red light had him glancing at Will just in time to see the man trailing the very tip of the blade along his own jaw. Everything in Noah’s brain stuttered — and it seemed his breath did too, if the way Will’s eyes snapped to him was any indicator.

“What’s up?” Will asked with audible delight, knife continuing its idle little dance along a jawline that seemed made for such a sight.

It took a split second of hesitation for Noah to turn his attention back to the traffic light, glaring at it like that would cause it to change any faster. He almost managed to focus enough to loosen the tightness in his lungs, but then he felt it, something cold and sharp pressing against his jaw.

Just enough pressure from Will had Noah turning his head to look at the knife-wielding maniac in his passenger seat again. “Your pupils are blown to hell. You can act like you’re not into this if you want. I know you are,” he all but purred, self-satisfied and completely insufferable.

A honk from the car behind them jolted both of them. He winced at the nick against the underside of his chin, somehow managed to shift his attention despite the throb between his legs — he started driving again before the person behind them could get any angrier and cleared his throat. “You’re insane,” he said simply, reiterating his words from earlier because they seemed the only apt sort of retort.

Except Will just laughed in the face of them, though he thankfully kept his mouth otherwise shut for the remainder of the drive. Noah refused to look his way again but swore he saw Will lick the blade clean, something that — even half-glimpsed — was going to live rent-free in his head for what felt like the rest of his life.

Noah managed to not take out any pedestrians or hit any curbs despite the fact that his brain was racing along mental pathways involving anything but safe and responsible driving. He wanted to say fuck common sense and pull into some dark, empty parking lot; take that stupid knife from Will, feel its weight in his hand; and hold it to Will’s throat as he slid a hand in his pants. Taking him apart like that felt only fair after all the hell Will had given him. But he managed, somehow, to keep the car in drive and to stay on the road.

He had no idea where Will’s band was staying, had just brought the man in question back to the hotel Omens had secured for the stop, and he had no real concern about Will finding his way back to where he belonged. With how Will was, with how his bandmates were, someone was bound to come looking if Will got too lost. Which meant Noah had to leave him in a state fit to leave on his own, which was oddly disappointing to consider.

Will managed a rather uncharacteristic display of good behavior on the way to Noah’s room: his knife was tucked back away and he kept his hands to himself, though he kept leaning in toward Noah like he was drawn in by some sort of physical force. It would have been naive for Noah to claim he didn’t experience a similar pull, though he was far more reluctant to indulge it.

“We need rules,” Noah started the second the hotel room door was shut. He shed his coat, tossed it on his suitcase, and turned to find Will offering an expression that was all cheshire — wide and tilted and delighted in a distinctly deranged way. “We don’t talk about this. No one knows about this. We’re not doing this again.” Oh, and the arch of Will’s eyebrows for the last rule; it was clear they both knew that Noah was full of shit.

But he refused to amend his statement, and he certainly wasn’t going to look such a lie in its face while Will was peering at him with such avid interest. “I’m controlling this. You want me to ruin you? Fine. You’re here for me to use. You don’t get a say.” Noah paused. “If it’s too much in a bad way, stop me. Otherwise . . .” A shrug.

Will kicked his shoes off and padded up to Noah with a spring in his step that set his curls bouncing. “You know I’m not exactly good at behaving,” he pointed out, though it was notably not a refusal of any of the rules.

Noah snagged the chain around Will’s neck, finding the amount of slack a little disappointing: he couldn’t choke Will easily while pulling on it, but it was just short enough that he couldn’t twist it around his fingers completely and cut off his air in that manner either. So he just hauled the smaller man in by it, stared down at him as he felt his own face go blank. “You don’t have a choice.”

And then they were kissing. Noah couldn’t pinpoint who had initiated it, and for a moment he couldn’t determine who was in control. It was something bruising and violent, a needy back-and-forth shove; he felt teeth at his bottom lip, no tongue to soothe after the sharp sting but a grin meeting the gasp that slipped free.

It felt second-nature to place a hand on Will’s throat; Noah curled his fingers around it, applied barely any pressure, and forced the kiss to break. Will looked desperate and eager, ready to agree to anything to get off, and Noah wondered, for a moment, just how far he could push the man. The problem, he realized, was that he didn’t have all night. Eventually, his bandmates would check on him.

“Knife on the table.” Noah stepped back, lifted his chin a little to frown down his nose at Will. There was a moment where Will just blinked at him, but the man seemed more dazed than defiant. “And clothes off. Wherever you’re not going to forget them.” He kept his tone flat, refused to give away even a hint of what he was feeling.

Will, though, seemed to know anyways, like he always did — frustratingly, impossibly. “You know,” he mused as he sat the knife down, “we don’t have to leave the knife over here. I don’t know if you’re as good with one as I am, but I could always teach you.” His clothes were shucked absentmindedly, left in a pile on the floor, and he looked utterly at ease as he stood in front of Noah, naked as he was.

Noah rolled his eyes and hoped Will missed the slight shiver that trailed along his spine. “I’m not going to the hospital tonight so you can get your weird kick.” He inclined his head toward the bed. “Sit.” The word was spoken like Will was a dog who couldn’t be counted on to listen, who needed an extra firm tone. He waited long enough to make sure Will did, in fact, comply before he moved to pull lube out of his bag.

The lube was tossed onto the bed next to Will, and then Noah undressed. He took his time with it, folding the clothes and setting them next to the knife. There was a faint sense of unease, of unbalance as he shook out his hair and turned his attention back to Will, but it all dissipated when he registered how Will stared at him: the gaze settled on him was simultaneously reverential and ravenous. He looked like he wanted to worship Noah but that worship would involve split skin and spilled blood.

It was hard to focus when such an expression was fixed on him, but Noah pushed down the urge to chase the promise there. “I hope you’re good with your fingers.” He picked up the lube, pressed the bottle into Will’s hand; fingers trailed up the column of Will’s throat so he could grasp his chin, tilt it up. “You’re only touching me how I tell you to, got it?”

As the words left him, Will had been lifting his free hand; it paused a few inches from Noah’s side as he sighed loudly, rolled his eyes. His whole demeanor still seemed far too lighthearted for where they were, for what they were to each other, but Noah couldn’t find the switch to flip to finally earn some serious regard from Will. “Would be a lot cooler if I could just touch you,” Will argued, dropping his hand.

Noah scoffed and climbed up on the bed, laying on his back and spreading his legs, feet planted on the mattress. “I’m ruining you, remember? Isn’t that what you wanted?” he reminded, snark dripping, as Will settled between his thighs and slicked his fingers.

“Then why are you the one getting fingered?” Will asked, fumbling the bottle a little but eventually managing to set it down without spilling too much. His fingers were surprisingly deft as they slipped along Noah’s entrance, teasing for just a moment before one digit slowly eased its way inside.

A pause as Noah’s breath hitched, eyelashes fluttering. “Because I’m using you to get off. You said to ruin you, you didn’t say how.” He assumed Will could hear the promise in his words by the toothy grin that Will flashed as he started pumping his finger in and out.

Will tried twice to get his other hand on Noah, getting stopped each time before much progress could be made. He shifted around and adjusted his position several times — but never stopped working Noah open, so Noah allowed it. His own hand found his cock, stroked slowly as Will worked a second, then a third finger inside him, and he made the mistake of tipping his head back as he groaned.

Which was, of course, when Noah felt a sudden and sharp bite to his inner thigh. His hips jerked up, head lifting and eyes shooting open to stare down at Will. “W-What—“ He found Will staring up at him with big, round eyes and teeth still firmly buried in the muscle. “Will,” he groaned, and he wasn’t sure if it was because the pressure increased and made his cock twitch, or because he was exasperated.

It took Noah shoving at Will’s head with one hand to get him to release, beaming up at Noah without so much as a glance at the teeth marks he’d left. “You said no touching. Biting isn’t touching. Technically,” Will argued, though he sounded a little uncertain on that last word.

Noah sat up, fisted Will’s hair and yanked him closer by the curls. “I should’ve known you liked to bite. I already knew you were a smartass.” He huffed, the fingers not twisted up in pink strands squeezing Will’s throat again. “On your back. Hands at your side. You touch me, you leave. Got it?”

Will groaned filthy and freely at the pressure to his throat. “Y-Yeah, got it. Kind of hard to listen when you do that, though.” His eyes rolled when Noah constricted his throat enough to briefly, momentarily block airflow, and then he was being released so he could scramble onto his back.

This was such a stupid idea. Noah mentally berated himself for it even as he poured more lube onto Will’s cock, stroked him a few times — it was a bit insincere, though, to call himself an idiot when he was also relishing in the thought of how Will’s dick would feel inside him. Perhaps that made it even more emphatic a sentiment, though.

Regardless of how advisable the course of action was, Noah straddled Will, sank down on his cock with a low groan that rumbled somewhere deep. The nails of one hand skimmed down Will’s sternum, his stomach, and the way Will arched up into the touch seemed to beg for more. “How much would you let me do to you?” Noah asked softly, rocking his hips as he adjusted to the feeling of Will inside him.

A breathless laugh. “As long as I’m still breathing at the end? Whatever the fuck you wanted,” Will answered with a sort of enthusiasm that made Noah pause and tilt his head. “Bet I’d hurt you just as good, though. With my teeth or my knife or— fuck.” His face scrunched as Noah started to move, to fuck himself slow and steady.

Noah wasn’t sure what else Will had thought about doing to him, but the incessant desire to know warned him that anything else on the matter would just tug him closer to the precipice of whatever abyss yawned up at him. Something about that dark, no end in sight, was so alluring, so tempting, but he forced himself to focus on the drag of Will’s cock as Noah rode him. “You talk too much,” he muttered to Will.

It didn’t take long for Noah to lose himself in the movement, the pleasure; he felt his muscles burn, the sweat pooling along the divots of skin, and he found himself fixated on watching Will’s face. He was so expressive, every ounce of pleasure playing out on his features, and he could tell the second a thought occurred to the man. Before he could brace himself, Will blurted, “Choke me.”

The whole point of Noah taking control and orchestrating each aspect was to push down the spiral he felt looming, but there was something about the way Will said the words. Maybe because the tone was off for a demand: it sounded more like a plea, albeit one without pretty, polite phrasing. “Beg me to,” Noah replied, fucking himself faster and stroking his own cock now. 

Will either had no sense of pride or was far more capable of swallowing it down than the average person, because the words left Noah and instantly Will was nodding. “Fuck, Noah, please, choke me. I want your hand on my throat. I want you to squeeze until I’m dizzy. F-Fuck, Noah, please.” He was all but whining by the end, undoubtedly driven more desperate by how tightly Noah clenched around him.

And stupidly, stupidly, Noah found himself demanding that Will say his name again. And again. The sound of it leaving Will’s lips, the way his voice twisted and pitched upward, had Noah cumming hard, rhythm stuttering as he milked his orgasm. Despite not telling Will he couldn’t cum, Will held on, biting the heel of his palm and scrunching his eyes shut. 

Noah found stillness, panting and twitching, and looked down at Will for a long, quiet moment. “You’re not going to cum until I tell you, are you?” he asked, gathering his semen on his fingers and offering the digits to Will when those brown eyes peered up at him once more.

Will shook his head and slurped on Noah’s fingers, mumbling around them, “Figured I couldn’t.” He groaned when Noah pulled the digits free, slid off of his cock. “Jesus. Fuck. You gonna choke me now?” He bared his throat in an almost humorously over-exaggerated gesture, licked his lips.

“Yeah, give me a second.” Noah settled in as comfortably as he could on Will’s thighs, one hand going to that bared, tattooed skin and clamping down as the other wrapped around Will’s throbbing cock. He stroked him quickly, grip a little tighter than Noah himself preferred, and squeezed on the sides of Will’s throat. He eased him into it, more to tease than anything else; brief pressure for a moment, then he released. A longer, deeper squeeze, another release.

Finally, Will was thrusting up into Noah’s touch and red-faced, eyes hazy and lips parted in a fruitless bid for air. Noah could see his gaze unfocusing and stroked Will faster, just about to tip him over the edge when he released his throat — and then he stopped. He didn’t even finish the upward stroke, just pulled his hand back, and he could tell instantly that he’d timed it perfectly because Will’s cock twitched and leaked almost pathetically as his stomach muscles clenched and his hips bucked up.

Will wheezed something that was probably meant to be insulting, so Noah slapped him just in case. “You said you wanted me to ruin you,” Noah reminded him sharply. “You didn’t say how.” He watched the orgasm that had only started to graze Will’s nerves fade and offered an expression vague but smug when Will finally opened his eyes to blink up at Noah.

The room was oddly quiet, save for Will’s rasped breaths, and Noah stared down at him for a long, contemplative moment. “I’ve thought about hurting you,” he started, not sure where the words were coming from or why they spilled forth unintentionally now, given how tight of a grasp he usually kept on his own thoughts and impulses, “and I always imagine you asking me for it first.” His fingers danced along the mess Will had made of himself even in spite of his peak being ripped from him. 

“I would. And you would too. You’d ask me to hurt you. I wouldn’t unless you asked ‘cause that’s part of the fun,” Will replied, the heaves of his chest lessening, slowing.

Noah blinked. He wanted to demand an explanation, a justification — why would Will ever think that about Noah? Noah was normal, well-adjusted, civil. He wasn’t some deranged, depraved thing that got off on blood and guts and tears. Except, well, the confession had just left Noah’s own lips: the thought of Will in pain, at Noah’s own hands, frequently occupied his thoughts. And maybe he’d thought about it mirrored, too; Will holding that stupid knife to Noah’s skin and painting pictures in one single shade of crimson.

God, he was so fucked.

And, just to really emphasize that, a familiar ringtone erupted from the table — Noah hadn’t even bothered to take his phone out of his pants pocket, but he knew that particular tune plenty well enough to recognize who was calling him. The fact that he was sharing his room tonight came flooding back to him belatedly, earned a wince. Nicholas was going to kill him.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

His lips crashed against yours, kissing you lazily but there was still heat behind it. His hands were under the hem of your- his- shirt, the rough pads of his fingers tracing circles on the bare skin of your lower back and hips. Every pass of his thumbs over the elastic of your panties sent a rush to your head and heat to your lower belly. You shifted subtly, trying to do something to ease the ache between your thighs, but feeling how hard he was in his boxers only made it worse. 

He pulled back slightly, breaking the kiss as he leaned back against the headboard, a lazy smirk already playing on his lips. His eyes were dark and heavy lidded as he looked up at you, scanning your face. 

“Comfortable up there, princess?” He teased, his finger hooking into your waistband again, but not making any move to tug them off. 

“Yeah.” You breathed, trying to sound nonchalant, shifting again to hide how your inner thighs trembled. 

You leaned down to capture his lips again, hoping to distract him, your tongue sweeping against his as you moved your hips, grinding down on him again, seeking more contact. He groaned softly into your mouth, his hands sliding down to cup your ass firmly. He then squeezed, pulling you tighter against him, forcing your center flush against the thick hardness hidden under his boxers. And oh, the sudden pressure was delicious, making you gasp against his lips. 

You rocked forwards again, slower this time, and a tiny whimper escaped you when the friction felt just right. He pulled back again, his smirk widening into a grin. 

“That’s it,” he purred, one of his hands coming up to brush a strand of hair away from your face, the other still holding you against him, “Take what you need.” His gaze dropped down to where your bodies met. “Feels good, huh? Rubbing that sweet little pussy against my dick? I bet you’re getting real wet for me under there.” 

You were. The combined sensation of his rough hands on you, his lips on yours and rubbing yourself against his hard cock? This was heaven. You clenched around nothing, and you tried to hide just how desperate and pathetic he was making you by kissing him harder. You ground down harder against him now, rocking your hips… but then suddenly your back hit the mattress with a soft thump. 

Noah positioned himself between your thighs, one hand planted beside you, holding himself up and the other cupping you through your underwear, feeling just how soaked it had become. 

You were an idiot. You shouldn’t want this as much as you do. You shouldn’t have imagined this very moment as much as you had. 

His fingers pressed a little firmer against you, and you whined into the kiss- and you could feel him smirk against your lips. 

“You hate me this much, huh?” He whispered between kisses. 

“Shut up.” 

“So bossy,” he pressed his fingers just right, “Let’s see how long it’ll take for your act to break… you could barely take my fingers last time and now you want my cock, huh? I don’t think you’d be able to handle it, baby.” 

Your cheeks burned red, and his words, the humiliation, only made the ache between your thighs stronger, and your hips rocked into his touch. 

“I can.” You whispered, eyes falling shut. 

“You can?” He laughed, pulling back slightly to tug your underwear down, throwing somewhere by the side of the bed. “Babe, this dick ruins girls who’ve been fucking around for years… they can’t take it, they cry on it, they lose their minds, they say it’s too much, and you…” his thumb found your swollen clit, brushing over it in a slow circle, “You’ve never even taken real dick before-”

“You’re so fucking full of yourself, Noah.” You panted, squirming under his touch, “You- fuck!” 

He pressed one long finger in, gently eased it back out before pushing a second in too, smirking as your thighs tried to shut around him. 

“Oh, don’t let me interrupt you, sweetheart. What were you saying?”

You swallowed hard, your teeth gritted as you glared at him through hazy eyes. And just as you opened your mouth to speak, he curled his fingers, rubbing that delicious spot again.

“Noah…!” You threw your head back against the pillows, your fingers wrapping around his wrist. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” He cooed, “You want me to stop?”

You shook your head. 

“What do you want, then? Tell me, princess.” 

“More… I can take it.” You whispered, your eyes meeting his- and shit, you almost came right then. 

“Oh, I don’t think you can.” He taunted, “No… you’d split in half, you wouldn’t be able to take this-.” 

“Shut the fuck up!” Your hips bucked against him, desperate and humiliated, but aroused beyond belief. 

“Mmh.” He curled his fingers again, dragging another helpless cry from you, “Sweetheart, you can’t even handle what I’m doing to you right now.” 

“Please,” you breathed, already hating how fast you’ve given in, “I can-”

“Ohh, are you begging me already?” He grinned, clearly loving this already judging by the way his eyes were lit up. He kissed the corner of your mouth and purred, “Who am I to deny my good girl?”

“Don’t call me that.” 

“Oh, but look at you…” He chuckled, pushing his boxers down his thighs. And you froze when you looked down at it. 

He wasn’t lying. 

“...Oh my god.” You hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but it slipped from your lips anyway. And clearly, you were only boosting his ego. 

“Yeah, that’s all real baby,” he laughed, his voice was pure sin, “First time you’ve ever seen a real one, huh? Still think you can take it?”

You swallowed hard, nodding your head, not trusting yourself to use your words. 

“Say it,” he demanded, his tone mocking and cruel, “Beg me again.” 

“I want,” you gasped, feeling a little dizzy as his thumb found your clit again, “Please… Noah…”

“Please what, babe?” His cock slid along your wet folds, teasing your entrace with the broad head, making your brain malfunction, “Please… what?” 

You fucking hated him. You hated that you couldn’t stop yourself. You hated that you didn’t want to stop. 

“...Please, I need you… inside me.” 

“God,” he groaned, his head falling back, running one hand through his messy hair, “You sound so fucking sweet when you’re needy.” 

Then, with one hand guiding his cock, the other still holding him up, he leaned down to kiss you and pushed forward just enough for the fat tip to breach your entrance. You dug your nails into his shoulders, the stretch making you squeeze your eyes shut. 

“Shit!” You groaned against his lips, already feeling your mind start to float away. 

“Mm, that’s it baby. Just the tip.” He whispered against your ear, nipping at your neck as he held himself there, not moving. “Feel how big I am? This is all you’re getting. You’re too fucking tight to take the rest yet.”

You felt tears fill your eyes from the overwhelming stretch, but it only made you want more. You wanted all of him. He did feel huge, and although the stretch was almost unbearable, it wasn’t nearly enough. 

“Oh, look at you,” he laughed softly, “This little pussy’s never had to work this hard before, huh?”

You whimpered, squeezing your eyes shut again as he thrust forward barely an inch, then pulled out again. 

“Mm, told you I’m fucking huge. You still think you can take it all?”

“Youre so- god, youre so cocky.” You shook your head, but you felt him smirk against your neck. 

“I’m realistic, baby… look at you, whining and crying over just the head splitting you open!” 

“Shut up.” You groaned, shame and pleasure both mixing together in your belly. 

“Why?” He tased, rolling his hips again just enough for the stretch to steal your breath, “Am I wrong? You’re barely handling what I’m giving you, and I’ve got so much more waiting…”

You whimpered, your hips lifting helplessly to meet his. 

“Gonna need to train you, princess.” He whispered, pressing himself just a little deeper, “I’m gonna have to stretch you out… get you nice and ready to take it all.” He chuckled darkly, his teeth grazing your skin again. 

God, you wanted to put him in his place, make him shut up and stop being so damn full of himself- but your walls clenched around him, betraying you and earning a groan from him. 

“Fuck… you like it, don’t you? Knowing you can’t take me, knowing how much bigger I am than all those toys you stuff inside yourself at night.”

“Shut up!” You forced out, but you could feel him grin against you. 

“Baby, nothing else is gonna compare after this. All you’ll ever be able to think about is me.” 

As if that wasn’t the truth already. 

“Noah.. please, I-” 

“Please what?” He asked through a grin, his cock twitching inside you, “Do you even know what you’re asking me for?”

“More..” You whimpered, rolling your own hips again like you could force it deeper. 

“More?” He mocked as he slipped one hand beneath your shirt, “You sure, sweetheart?”

“Yes.” You nodded frantically, but he just chuckled and kissed the side of your neck again. 

“Fuck, you’re begging to get split open when you can’t even take oneinch… you’re pathetic, babe.” He taunted as his hand slid up from your stomach to squeeze your tits. 

“You’re so fucking mean.” You said, though it came out as more of a breath, making him smirk. 

“And you’re dripping down my balls for it.” He pulled back just enough for his tip to catch at your entrance, then he pushed it in again, making you cry from the sudden stretch. “Oh, baby, feel how tight you are? Fuck, I almost feel bad for you.” 

You whimpered, going out of your mind already. You didn’t give a fuck how needy or desperate you sounded any more as you buried your face in his neck. 

“Please, please, Noah…” You sobbed. 

“You still begging me for more? How much do you think you can take? You seriously think you could take it all?”

“I’ll… I’ll try.” You nodded, clinging to his shoulders. 

“Mm, you’re sure? Cause once I start, I’m not stopping until you’re full.”

“Please.” You whispered one more time, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder. 

That’s when you felt it, he pushed in a little more, and then a little more. You gasped, the stretch a little painful, but so good you saw stars. 

“Good girl, that’s it.” He whispered, “Take it all, like you’ve been begging for… feel me stretching you? That’s not even half of it yet… shit- I’m trying to be nice but it’s like your pussy’s trying to suck me in… you still want more?”

Why can’t he just shut the fuck up and fuck you?

“Yes,” you said, your eyes rolling back as he played with your clit again, “I… please…”

But being the asshole that he is, instead of giving you more, he pulled out completely, leaving you whining and pulsing around nothing. His cock slid wet against your clit, the tip nudging it as he rocked his hips, and yours chased him before you could even stop yourself. 

“Ohh you are needy,” he teased, “Bet you’d hump my thigh if I let you, wouldn’t you?”

“Noah, stop fucking teasing or I swear-” 

He positioned the head against your entrance again.

“You swear what, angel?” 

“I’ll- ohmygodohmygod…” You drew in a sharp breath as he finally did it, the stretch went from overwhelming to unbearable pleasure, inch after inch sliding in until you felt so full it hurt. 

“There you go, baby,” he grinned, “This what you wanted? Shit you’re squeezing me so tight I don’t know how long I’m gonna last…” 

Your thighs shook as he slowly pulled back, before sliding in again. You almost choked on a moan, clinging to his body as you felt your mind float away with every thrust. 

He started off slow, but his pace soon began to pick up, and with his thumb still rubbing circles over your clit, you couldn’t help but clench around him, pulling almost pained sounds out of him. All you could do was lay there, and take all the mindblowing pleasure he was giving… 

“I’m really not gonna last long, baby… not with you looking so pretty underneath me… bet you never thought we’d ever be here, huh?”

“Noah!” You tried to warn, but it came out as a whimper…

“Yes, baby? You want more?”

“No, I want you to stop fucking talking.” 

He laughed at that, and shook his head. 

“There’s only one way to shut me up, princess.” 

Your eyes met his, then his drifted down to your lips, and you tangled your fingers into his hair as you pulled him down, your lips colliding with desperation, hate, frustration, need- everything he’s ever made you feel. 

“Can feel you squeezing me,” he said as he pulled back, his voice raspy, “You gonna cum for me? You gonna cum on your first real cock?”

You nodded, your hands cupping his face and bringing his lips back to yours. 

“Let go for me, baby.” He whispered against your lips, and suddenly the feeling of his cock stretching you out, his fingers playing with your clit and his body on yours all became too much… 

Your orgasm washed over you like a wave, you moaned into his mouth as you clenched around him again and again, your thighs trembling and your body melting further into the mattress.

“Fuckk-” He groaned, and you felt him twitch inside you. 

Then he buried himself deep with one, long, hard, final thrust, making your body jolt, making you bite his lip so hard you could taste copper, and he spilled inside you. 

He stayed there for a moment whilst the both of you caught your breath, long enough for you to stop clenching around him. You were both covered in a sheen of sweat, tears dried on your cheeks and Noah’s lips red and kiss swollen. 

Slowly, Noah slid one hand down to your tummy, holding there as he slowly pulled out, the both of you wincing. He tucked himself back into his boxers and he pulled your shirt back down. He collapsed down on the mattress beside you, his breaths slowing whilst yours were still shaky and uneven. 

You laid there, staring up at the ceiling, trying to process everything that had just happened. Because what the fuck… 

Noah shifted beside you, you half expected him to roll over and pass out, confirming everything you’ve ever thought about him, but instead he broke the silence. 

“Are you okay?” He asked quietly, his voice a little rough. 

“Yeah,” you managed to breathe, “Just… exhausted.”

He smiled, propping himself up on one elbow, watching your face carefully. 

“Hey,” he brushed a thumb along your cheek, tracing where one of your tears had dried, “You sure? That was a lot for you. You look… somewhere else. It wasn’t too much was it?”

“No,” you chuckled weakly, “I’m fine.”

He gave a small nod, then pushed himself back up, reaching for something behind him. 

“Here.” He handed you his water from the nightstand, “Small sips.” 

You hesitated before taking it with a simple thanks, but the simple gesture warmed your heart more than you wanted it to. You couldn’t imagine him treating all his girls like this. So have you underestimated him all this time? Was he more than just a fuckboy? Was he really a sweetheart deep down?

You took a few sips of the water, sitting up in the bed as he went to the bathroom. When he came back, he had a box of tissues with him. 

“Do you want me to help you uh… clean up?” He nodded to where your legs were still slightly spread, they felt like jelly beneath you. 

“It’s okay.” You shook your head, “I’ll do that. I should probably pee anyway.”

He nodded, placing the tissues down on the edge of the bed. 

“Yeah, good idea. I’ll, uh, get you a clean shirt if you want, I’m guessing that one got a little sweaty..” 

You nodded, thanking him as you slid out of bed carefully, reaching for your discarded panties on the floor and feeling your legs tremble slightly as you made your way to the bathroom. When you closed the door behind you, you caught sight of yourself in the mirror, and almost didn’t recognise the girl staring back- hair a mess, lips swollen, cheeks flushed. You shook it off, and continued with the task at hand. 

By the time you came back out, Noah was digging through his tour bag. He had pulled out a top for you, one of his band's ones, and he nodded towards it. 

“You can wear this if you want…” 

You smiled, thanking him as you reached for it. You walked back over to your side of the bed, and turned away from him. 

“Noah…”

“Yes?”

“Cover your eyes, please.” 

“Babe, I’ve just been inside you.” He laughed, and you heard the thud as he tossed his tour bag back down onto the floor. 

“I know, but…”

“Fine!” He chuckled, turning around too to give you your privacy as you changed from one of his shirts into another. 

After a couple seconds you told him he could look again, and you climbed back into bed. He joined you, pulling back the covers and sliding in beside you… and then for a few seconds, neither of you spoke. 

You were still trying to process everything in your head- how this was the one thing you swore would never happen… but now look at you. Then, your thoughts were interrupted as Noah cleared his throat. 

“Uh,” he whispered, turning his head slightly towards you, “Do you wanna cuddle…? Or do you want some space?”

You glanced up at him, the question and softness of his voice melting your heart. But you didn’t reply, instead you shuffled closer to him, and he smiled as he slid his arm around you, pulling you closer until your head rest against his shoulder. 

You felt safe, you felt taken care of, so you let your eyes close, your let your muscles relax, but before you could drift off, Noah spoke again, his voice a lot more sincere this time. 

“Thank you.” He whispered. 

“For what?” Your brows drew together as you tilted your head to look up at him. 

“For trusting me like that.” He said simply. “For letting me be your first.”

You smiled, letting your eyes shut again. 

“Don’t make it weird, Noah.” 

He chuckled, his fingers finding yours under the sheets and lacing them together.  

“There she is,” he smirked, kissing the back of your hand, “I knew I wouldn’t fuck the attitude out of you.” 

“Shut up and go to sleep.” You groaned against his chest. 

So Noah didn’t speak again after that, and he didn’t move. He just held you, his thumb brushing gentle circles over the back of your hand as you slowly drifted off together…

…

The next morning, sunlight crept through the gaps of the hotel blinds, painting warm stripes across the tangled sheets. You woke up first, or so you thought. Your body felt heavy and sore in places you didn’t know could be sore. When you tried to stretch, a quiet wince escaped you.

“Shit.” You whispered, pressing a hand to your thigh. “Noah, you bastard.”

“Good morning to you too.” 

You turned your head and found Noah already awake, lying on his back, his hands tucked behind his head. His hair was a mess, and he looked far too pleased with himself.

“You’re staring, babe.” He said, his voice still gravelly from sleep.

“You’re far too smug for… 9am.”

“Can you blame me?” His grin spread slowly. “You’re walking evidence of how good I am.”

“Shut the fuck up.” You groaned, burying your face in the pillow.

He just laughed softly, then reached over and tugged the blanket up to your shoulders. 

“You okay though? You’re making little noises every time you move.”

“I’m sore.” You admitted, your voice muffled against the pillow.

“Oh yeah?” He smirked, “Guess I really did a number on you, huh?”

You lifted your head just enough to glare at him. 

“You’re so fucking annoying.”

“And you let me fuck you.”

You wanted to argue, to tell him to shut up again, but the way he was looking at you like he was completely unbothered by what happened last night, like nothing had to be weird or awkward now, made you feel relieved. 

He rolled out of bed, stretching, his tattoos catching the morning light. Look away look away!!

“You want breakfast before we hit the road?” He asked, “Or should we get something on the way back?”

You sighed into the pillow, trying to will away both the ache in your thighs and the smugness radiating off the man standing half naked by the window.

“Let’s just eat here,” you said finally, your voice muffled. “There’s a cafe down by the lobby. I don’t think I’m ready to sit in the car yet, everything hurts.”

Noah chuckled, picking up his shirt from the floor. 

“It’s been a long time since I’ve heard a girl say that.” 

You narrowed your tired eyes at him as you swung your legs off the side of the bed. Wincing as you stood, and he just smirked and handed you your jeans. 

“C’mon, get dressed. Breakfast is on me, I think you’ve earned it.”

Asshole.

Ten minutes later, you were sitting across from him in the hotel cafe, trying very hard to act normal while your brain was working at a thousand miles per hour. You kept your eyes fixed on your plate, stirring your coffee to keep your hands busy. 

Noah, of course, looked completely fine. Totally unbothered. Like this was just another Wednesday morning. His red beanie was back on his head, his elbows rested on the table as he took a bite out of his pancake, and he was scrolling through his phone like the two of you hadn’t just-

“Fuck… I guess I should probably book an sti test when we get back.”

He blinked, looked up, and frowned slightly. 

“What?”

You shrugged, stabbing at your eggs. 

“Well, you didn’t use protection, did you?”

“Oh yeah, about that… sorry. I didn’t have any on me.”

“Seriously?” Your eyes widened, “The guy who fucks anything that moves doesn’t keep an emergency stash on him?” You gave him a look. 

“Hey,” he said, pretending to look offended. “First of all, that’s rude. Second, you don’t even need to worry about getting tested. I’m clean. I always use protection. Last night was actually the first time I’ve never used a condom… ever…” 

You studied him for a second, waiting for some kind of smirk or joke, but there wasn’t one. 

“Seriously?” Your eyes widened. 

“Yes!” He chuckled, “Hell, I’ll even get tested if you don’t believe me. You think I’m not responsible? I take care of myself, sweetheart, and I’d never do anything that’d put you at risk.”

You didn’t really know what to say to that. So you just shrugged. 

“Whatever, I’m still getting tested.” 

“Good girl,” he said, grinning again as he reached for his coffee, “Your first time and you’re this responsible. I’m proud of you.” 

You shot him a glare. 

“Eat your damn pancakes, Noah.”

…

An hour later, you and Noah got back in the car and were on your way home. The ride started off quiet, not awkward, but rather peaceful. You had your legs curled up in the passenger seat, Noah’s hoodie draped over your lap like a blanket since you were complaining about being cold, yet Noah had all the windows down, claiming he was too hot. 

He had one hand on the wheel, nodding along to whatever song was playing through the speakers. But an hour or so into the trip, he looked over at you. 

“Hey, I didn’t realise you were still awake. D’ya wanna play DJ? My phone’s plugged in.”

You hesitated. 

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” he said, nodding toward his phone. “The passcode is 1234.”

“Of course it is.” You snorted, but smiled, grabbing his phone. 

The moment the screen lit up, you saw all the notifications…. 

Molly: you back in town yet?

Taylor: i missed you last night :(

Unknown number: heyyy when do you get back? I was wondering if you were free tonight hehe

Your stomach turned before you could stop it. You knew who he was, what he was like. You knew this was just him... but somehow, seeing proof of it, especially after the night you just shared, still stung a little.

You forced a small laugh, trying not to let it show. 

“Wow, you’re popular.”

“Huh?” He glanced over at you briefly, then back to the road. 

“All the girls in your notifications,” you said, ignoring them as you found his spotify. “Impressive.”

He chuckled. 

“Oh, that. Yeah, people get clingy.”

“Uh-huh.” You tried to sound casual, but your voice came out a little flat.

“Oh… are you jealous?” He smirked.

“Of what? The line of girls desperate to be ignored by you?”

“Hey, I don’t ignore them,” he said. “I’m a gentleman.”

You shook your head, but you didn’t look at him. 

“You’ve got a really weird definition of that word.”

Noah grinned, sensing the tiny shift in your tone. 

“Aw, come on, sweetheart. You’re not really mad, are you?”

“No! I’m not mad,” you said too quickly. “Why the fuck would I be mad? It’s not like I-” You cut yourself off, realising how defensive you sounded.

He chuckled under his breath. 

“Mm right. You’re doing that thing again, babe.”

“What thing?”

“The thing where you pretend you don’t care when you obviously do.”

“Shut up, Noah.” You said before finding an album you liked, putting the first song on and turning the volume up enough to drown him out…

For a while, it was quiet again, except for the music playing. You watched out the window, watching the fields and trees pass by, the occasional gas station… but you could feel your eyes grow heavy again. And after a while, Noah glanced over and saw your head leaning against the window, your eyes finally falling shut. 

“Tired?” He asked quietly.

“Mhm.” You hummed, your voice hazy. 

He smirked.

“Not surprised after what we did last night.” 

“You’re disgusting.” You said, opening your eyes just enough to glare at him. 

“You say that a lot, y’know.” 

“Yeah. Because it’s true.” You groaned, letting your eyes shut again as you heard him chuckle. 

“Go to sleep, princess,” he said quietly after a moment, “I’ll wake you when we’re home.”

You wanted to protest, to tell him not to call you that, but the warmth of his voice and the tiredness taking over made it impossible. Within minutes, you were out.

Noah glanced at you again a few moments later, and he couldn’t help but smile. 

…

The next day

When your alarm woke you up for work, you groaned. Not because you had to leave your warm, comfy bed, but because you’d have to face Noah again. And your uncle. You were sure he’d be questioning you about the last couple days, and how you and Noah coped with each other- which is why you were determined to get to the garage first, because you were scared of how much Noah might tell him, and how much he might lie about. 

So you got up, took a shower and got dressed. You were supposed to shower last night after Noah dropped you home, but you were still so tired and still a little sore, so you just went straight back to bed. You still couldn’t believe you slept with him, after making a promise to yourself that you would never do that. But what you also couldn’t believe was that you enjoyed it… though it shouldn’t be a surprise, you’d been fantasising about it for weeks. 

So, you got to work at 8am, you pushed the door open with one hand, your coffee in the other, and the bell on the door jingled above you. You were immediately hit with the smell of dust, coffee and engine oil, and it was weirdly comforting after the last two days you just had. 

You tossed your bag down on to your desk, getting your laptop out and tried very hard not to think about Noah’s voice, or his hands, or most importantly his d-

“You made it back alive!” Your uncle grinned, making you jump as he appeared at the door, “How did it go? Is Noah still in one piece?” He chuckled. 

You shrugged, already busying yourself with filing the paperwork left on your desk. 

“The suppliers made a mistake again, but it’s fine. I handled it.”

Steve’s brows lifted, impressed. 

“Handled it? Look at you! I’m proud of you, kid.”

“Thanks.” You smiled almost shyly, remembering Noah’s words. That’s my fucking girl!

Steve crossed his arms, resting against the counter where he kept the kettle and the coffee, and he gave you a look- the Steve look. The one that you knew meant he was about to ask something you didn’t want to answer. 

“So,” he said casually, “How was it with Noah?”

“It was fine.” You said it too quickly, “He was… fine.”

Steve raised an eyebrow. 

“Just fine? Because last time I checked, you can’t stand to be in the same room as him.”

“...Well, he did have his moments.” You shrugged. 

“Uh huh,” he smirked, “So you two are finally getting along now? You finally confessed your feelings for him?” 

You shot him a glare over your shoulder. 

“I do not have feelings for him.” 

“Sure, sure!” He grinned wider. “Y’know, I’ve had this feeling that you two are secretly in love ever since he started here, ever since I caught you looking at him, blushing and doe eyed and-”

“Oh my god, Steve, please stop.”

“Hey!” He chuckled, “I’m just saying, he’s a nice guy. I wouldn’t mind having him as a nephew-in-law.” 

You laughed at that, shaking your head. 

“As if that’s ever going to happen.”

“Oh yeahh, because you ‘hate’ him, right? That’s why you’re smiling right now.”

“I’m not smiling.”

“You are.”

“Steve!!”

“Alright, alright. I’ll drop it.” He laughed, backing toward the garage bay. 

You rolled your eyes, but as soon as he disappeared through the door, you caught your reflection in the black screen of your laptop.

And he was right. You were smiling. 

…

The door to your office creaked open just after nine, the bell above ringing as the sound of boots hitting the floor caught your attention. You didn’t even need to look up from your laptop to know who it was. 

“Morning, princess.”

You looked up over the top of the screen and, yep, there he was! 

Noah came in with messy hair sticking out from his beanie, a grey tshirt and… he looked tired? More than tired actually, he looked exhausted. 

“You look awful.” You pointed out, turning back to your work.

He snorted, tossing his keys onto your desk. 

“Yeah, thanks sweetheart. Love the concern.”

“You’re welcome.”

He wandered over to the counter, taking a mug from the cupboard and rubbing his jaw as he let out a long sigh.

“Late night?” You asked, not because you cared- at least that’s what you told yourself- but because silence around him always felt suspicious.

“Mmhm.” He grinned lazily. “I had some… catching up to do.”

“Catching up?”

He looked over his shoulder at you, his grin widening in that infuriatingly smug way. 

“Yeah, y’know. Had a few girls that wanted to see me, and who am I to say no… I think I might’ve overdone it though.”

“Ew.” You grimaced with a shake of your head. 

“Ew?” He laughed, “That’s all I get?”

“What do you want me to say? Congratulations?” You scoffed, trying to act unbothered. 

Noah chuckled under his breath. 

“Y’know, jealousy really doesn’t suit you, babe.”

You turned, eyebrows raised. 

“Why do you always seem to think I’m jealous?”

“Mm, maybe not jealous then. You’re just mad I didn’t come back to tuck you in last night, huh?”

You shot him a glare, but didn’t say anything. You just typed away on your keyboard, trying to distract yourself. 

Noah was quiet for a moment whilst he made his coffee, though you felt it every time he glanced over at you. Then, he picked up his mug, and his voice softened as he asked…

“You sleep okay last night?”

The question threw you off. 

“What?”

“Last night,” he said, shrugging casually, though his tone wasn’t teasing now. “You slept all the way home, and you looked wiped when I dropped you off.”

“Yeah,” your brows furrowed, confused at his sudden care? “I slept fine… unlike you, clearly.”

He chuckled at that, taking a sip of his drink. 

“Babe, you could hardly last one round with me the other night. Try going three rounds, with three different people- and no sleep, I’m running on nothing but pussy and redbull this morning.”

“God, you’re so fucking gross. And you told me I don’t need to get tested?” You grimaced. 

Noah grinned over the rim of his mug. 

“You don’t! I told you, I’m clean.”

You blinked at him, disbelief written all over your face. 

“You literally just said you slept with three people last night.”

He shrugged, like it was the most normal thing in the world. 

“Yeah, and I used protection with all of them.”

“Oh, wow! Do you want a medal?” You shot back sarcastically. 

“I wouldn’t say no to one.” He smirked, walking past your desk.

“You’re so fucking irritating.” You groaned under your breath.

“Mmhm, I prefer ‘experienced’.” He shot back, making you roll your eyes. 

“It’s actually painful to be around you sometimes.”

“You sure that’s pain you’re feeling, sweetheart? ’Cause it kinda looks like you’re remembering… you rolled your eyes like that for me the other night, too.”

You froze, just for a second, but he saw it. 

That smug, knowing little glint lit in his eyes again. 

“I’m not-” you started, then stopped, because the look on his face was too much. You huffed, and turned away from him completely. “You’re such an ass, Noah.”

He just chuckled quietly behind you, taking another slow sip of his coffee. 

“Yep, but you love it.”

You scoffed, forcing a laugh.

“In your dreams.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” He leaned in just enough that his voice dropped low, playful and a little rough. “You are in my dreams.”

Your jaw tightened, but your face felt hot. 

“Just- fuck! Get to work, Noah.”

He grinned and pushed off your desk, finally giving you space. 

“Okay, okay...”

As he walked away, you tried to focus on the laptop screen in front of you, on anything that wasn’t him, the way he looked so confident as he stepped into the garage, or the sound of his voice. But your mind wouldn’t quiet down.

Because even when Noah was being the most insufferable human alive… some stupid part of you still kind of missed the way he’d looked at you that night, the way he’d touched you like you were the only person in the world.

You couldn’t tell who you hated more, him or your brain. 

…

“Jess… I messed up.” You frowned, sitting down on the closed toilet lid in the garage bathroom. 

It was now half way through the day, and you weren’t sure how you managed to survive this long. Every time Noah laughed with a customer or brushed past you to grab a form from the desk, your stomach did a little flip. You tried to focus, but all you could think about was that night in the hotel… and you just needed to tell somebody. 

“…Oh my god. What did you do?” Jess asked. 

You lowered your voice even though no one could hear you from outside. 

“I… fuck it sounds so stupid!” You groaned into your hand. You tried to think of a way to break it gently, something that didn’t sound as blunt as- “...I had sex with Noah.”

“I- you did WHAT?”

“I slept with him!” You groaned. “It just kinda happened, okay? We were on a trip to the suppliers and we had to share a hotel room and there was only one bed and-“ You stopped, shaking your head. “One thing just led to another….” 

“...You slept with the guy you’ve been complaining about since the day you met? The guy you supposedly hate?!” 

“Fuck, I know. Don’t remind me.”

“Oh, babe.” You could practically hear her grin through the phone. “Was it at least good?”

You threw your head back with a groan.  

“Jess!!”

“Mmhm. That’s a yes.”

“But now I don’t know what to do, because he’s just out there acting like everything's normal, like nothing ever happened, and I… I don’t know what to do from here.”

Jess hummed. 

“Okay. Just keep calm… don’t overthink it. I need to get to work in two minutes, so go and finish your shift, then come over tonight and we can talk all about it? Okay?” 

“Okay.” You nodded even though she couldn’t see you. “That sounds like a plan.”

“Good! I finish at 7 so… see you then?” 

“See you then.” You said with a smile, before saying your goodbyes and hanging up. 

With a long sigh, you got back up and looked at your reflection in the mirror. You could not let him know the effect he is having on you. You’d never hear the end of it. So you squared your shoulders, took a deep breath, and went back out to your office- trying (and failing) not to glance at Noah the second you stepped out. 

No. Stop. Limit your distractions, shut the door. 

So you did. Before sitting at your desk, you reached over and shut the door leading into the garage, but that didn’t stop you from seeing him in your head. 

…

Surprisingly, Noah had been busy the rest of the day, so he didn’t have time to come and bother you- that or he was genuinely so tired after his eventful night and fell asleep out there. Either way, you didn’t see him again until you were getting ready to leave. 

It was 5pm, so you slipped your laptop into your bag, picked up the few rogue staples that were scattered on your desk and reached for your jacket, hoping to sneak off before Steve pestered you about overtime to make up for the last two days- but then the door opened…

“Heading out?” Noah asked, leaning against the doorframe as he wiped his hands off on a rag. 

“Yep.” You adjusted your bag on your shoulder. 

“What, Steve isn’t making you work overtime too?” He smirked. “I’m staying behind, you don’t wanna give your favourite coworker some company?”

“Trust me,” you scoffed, “I’ve had enough of my ‘favourite coworker’ for one lifetime.”

He nodded his head, clearly not convinced. 

“Got any plans for tonight?” He asked, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“I do, actually.” You said. 

“Oh yeah?” He smirked, “You going to see your other friend… what was her name, Jess?”

“You…” You froze, confused as to how he knew, “How did you know I’m going to see Jess?”

He grinned. 

“Because you always do when you’re stressed, or when you want to talk about me. And after the other night, I’m sure you’ve got plenty to tell her. Make sure she knows you came first, I have a reputation for being a gentleman.”

You screwed your face up. 

“You’re sick.” 

“Maybe,” he said with a shrug. “But if the memory makes you horny and you wanna go again… you know where to find me, babe.” 

You scoffed, shaking your head as you reached for the door and left. 

God, I hate him, you thought as you got into your car- but the heat in your cheeks said otherwise. 

…

“Okay,” Jess began, pouring you a glass of wine, “I need all the details! Was it good? Surely he was, but-”

“Jess!” You groaned, burying your face in your hands. 

“What?!” She grinned, “You fucked a hot guy- a hot guy that you hate- and I need to know what happened! Was he rough or soft? Did he moan? Was he vocal?” 

“Vocal? He didn’t shut up,” you shook your head, reaching for your glass, “He was saying all these things that seemed so hot in the moment, but thinking back just makes me cringe!” 

“Oh yeah?” She gasped, “Like what?”

“You seriously want me to repeat what he said during sex?” You asked, shooting her a look. 

“...Yeah?” She shrugged like it was the most normal thing in the world!

You groaned, setting your glass down on the table and adjusting yourself so you were sat with your legs crossed on her couch. 

“He spent most of the time telling me how I wouldn’t be able to take his ‘massive’ dick…” You said flatly, making Jess almost spit out her drink. 

“And was it… y’know… big?”

“I don’t know, I have nothing to really compare it to…” 

“Hm, I guess. Size never usually matters too much, but did he know what he was doing with it?” She smirked, wiggling her eyebrows. 

You let out a long, defeated sigh. 

“He did,” you said, “It was good… too good. He knew just where to hit and what to touch and where to kiss and… fuck-”

She just giggled, placing her glass down on the table beside yours. 

“So what’s the deal with you two now then? Have you asked him about being friends with benefits or more, or…?”

“I don’t know,” you confessed. “I told him I wanted to do that more with him, but that was basically it. We haven’t really talked about it properly yet…”

Jess frowned. 

“You mean you just-”

“Yeah.” You cut her off quickly. “We just… did it, and then he was really sweet after, and the next morning he was just… normal Noah again. Same old teasing, same stupid smirk, same smartass comments. I didn't really expect anything else though.”

“So no post sex heart to heart?” She teased gently. “No love confessions or anything?”

“God, no. I don’t even know if he does that.” You sighed. “But that’s what’s so confusing. I thought it would be weird after, awkward maybe, but it wasn’t. He checked on me, he was gentle, he made sure I was okay, and then the next day he was making jokes about it, like nothing had changed.”

Jess watched you quietly for a moment. 

“Okay, but what do you want from him?”

You looked at her, caught off guard. 

“What do you mean?”

She shrugged. 

“Well, you’d always talk about him like you hate him, but I can tell you don’t. Not really. So if you could pick… just say it. What would you actually want this to be?”

You hesitated, your mouth opening and closing before you finally whispered, 

“I don’t know. I mean… I know he’s not the relationship type. I’d be stupid to even think that. But at the same time, I don’t want to feel like just another girl to him. He came into work this morning and started bragging about how he fucked three girls last night?!”

Jess softened a little. 

“I see… so you do want him, right? But he doesn’t do relationships, and you don’t want to get hurt.”

You gave a small, bitter laugh. 

“Yeah. Pretty much.”

She nodded slowly, swirling her wine. 

“You really need to talk to him about that. You need to tell him how you feel, what you want from him, what you want to offer him… and then set some boundaries around it.”

You stared at the rim of your glass, chewing on your bottom lip. 

“I don’t know if he even thinks that deep about it. I don’t know if he even thinks that deep about anything. He’d probably just think I’m like any other girl in his contacts asking for sex.”

“Then make him think about it.” Jess smiled softly. “If he really doesn’t care, you’ll know. But if he does…”

You looked up at her, a flicker of something nervous, but also a little hopeful in your eyes. 

“If he does?”

“Then you’ll finally know what this thing between you actually is… because it doesn’t sound like you're just any other girl to him. It never has.”

You leaned back, your heart twisting in your chest.  

“Yeah,” you murmured, half to yourself. “Guess I will.”

The two of you sat in quiet for a moment, music playing quietly in the background, wine glasses half empty. Jess finally broke the silence with a grin.

“So. Are you gonna call him?”

You groaned, throwing your head back. 

“Absolutely not.”

Jess laughed. 

“You need to talk to him though. Maybe not tonight… but you should.”

“I know,” you sighed, “It’s just difficult to try and talk to him about something serious. He’ll just use it to make fun of me or something.” 

Jess chuckled. 

“Yknow, I’ve still not met him yet.”

“Good,” you scoffed, “You don’t want to. He’s insufferable.”

“So insufferable that you’re freaking out over how much you want him.”

“Don’t put it that way.” You frowned. “You make me sound like Zach.”

“…Oh, uh… yeah, about him…”

You shot her a glare, narrowing your eyes. 

“What? What is it?”

“…So y'know how he moved in with Sam recently.”

“…Yes?” 

“He’s going to be at his halloween party.” 

“Jess!” You groaned, “No! I’m not going to that party if that creep is there. Last time we went to a party and he was there he wouldn’t stop telling me how I smelled nice and kept trying to kiss me!” 

“I know, I know.” Jess frowned, “It’s not my idea, if it was my choice I’d have never let him move in, but Sam needed someone… but I have an idea.” 

“Why do I feel like I’m not going to like it?” You frowned. 

“Because you might not, but it’ll work!” 

“Jess-” 

“Just hear me out, okay? I thought that maybe if you brought a date with you, he’ll be sure to keep his distance!” 

“A date?” You raised an eyebrow. “I don’t need a date. Because I won’t be going.” 

“No!!” She pouted, “Please!”

“Who the fuck would I bring? Glenn from the garage?!”

“No… I was thinking maybe someone taller, someone hotter… someone who wouldn’t mind pretending for one night.” 

“Jess, do I look like someone with an abundance of options?” 

“I can think of one.” She said with a little smirk as she took a sip from her glass, and you immediately knew where this was going- where this had been going.

“...No. Jess, no!” You groaned, throwing your head back against the couch. 

“Hey you don’t even know who I’m-”

“You mean Noah, don’t you?”

Jess gave you a little, shy smile. 

“I mean Noah.” She said, putting her glass back down on the table, “It sounds like the two of you act like a couple anyway. He’s hot, he’s protective when he wants to be and he already drives you insane- sounds just like me and Sam!” 

You thought about it for a moment. You asked yourself what you would rather- a night spent getting hit on by Zach, feeling uncomfortable and leaving early… or a night spent with Noah by your side. You already knew he’d say yes if you asked. But you also knew the “date” act wouldn’t be entirely convincing, since he’d probably spend most of the night flirting with any girl in sight. 

“This is such a bad idea…” You said with a long sigh, and Jess grinned like the fucking devil. 

“So you’re saying yes!!” 

“I’m saying maybe.” 

“Hmm, so that’s a yes!” She giggled, “Yay! I can’t wait to meet him!” 

You shook your head in disbelief, wondering how the fuck were you agreeing to this. 

“Has Maya told you whether she’s coming or not yet?”

“Uh… she won’t give me a straight answer. She said she might have plans, apparently it’s one of her other friends' birthdays on halloween.” 

You scoffed, knowing that was most definitely just an excuse to get out of going. 

“Yeah, right. Maya doesn't even have any other friends.” 

…

You had spent the rest of last night and all of this morning wondering how the hell you were going to ask Noah to come to a party with you. You were sure he’d already have plans, he was always at parties- even on work nights. This is why you had to ask him now. Halloween was still a couple weeks away, so maybe if you asked first there was more of a chance he’d agree? Right? 

You sure hoped so. The last thing you wanted to do was look like a fucking idiot in front of him. 

“Morning, princess. Missed me?” He smirked as he strolled in late as usual, tossing his car keys down onto your desk. 

You didn’t even look up from your laptop. 

“I missed the peace and quiet.” 

“Aw,” he cooed, “You’re cute when you lie, y’know.” 

You sighed, glaring up at him. 

“Don’t start, Noah.” 

He laughed under his breath and went to the counter, rifling through some papers. 

“You’re tense today, babe. What’s got you all wound up?”

You, you wanted to say.

Instead, you rolled your chair back and stood. 

“Nothing. I just didn’t sleep well.”

“Hmm.” He turned around, leaning against the counter. “Too busy thinking about me, huh?”

You said nothing to that, you just ignored him, waiting for the printer to print out your form. 

“Hey,” Noah said a little softer, “What’s up? I can tell something's on your mind.” 

“Nothing’s on my mind!” You snapped, only making him smirk. 

“Sure, sure,” he chuckled, “You know where I am if you want to talk about it, sweetheart.” 

He headed towards the door to the garage, and you weighed it over in your mind, but before you could stop yourself you called out, 

“Noah, wait.” You sighed, letting your eyes fall shut, knowing he’d be smirking already. 

“I’m waiting, babe.” 

“...There’s something I need to ask you.” You said, turning around to face him. 

“Oh, this sounds fun.” He chuckled, leaning against the doorframe. “Hit me.”

“So, Jess’s boyfriend, Sam, is throwing a halloween party…”

“Oh, and you’re telling me this.. why?” He smirked, “You need someone to pick you up?”

“...No. Actually yeah, maybe, but… this guys gonna be there, I don’t like him, he’s a massive creep and he seems to be obsessed with me-”

“What’s his name?”

You blinked at him, thrown off by how fast he asked. 

“What?”

“What’s his name?” Noah repeated, his tone sharper this time, and the smirk had faded, replaced by something that was almost a little scary. 

“He’s called Zach.” 

He nodded once, like he was committing it to memory. 

“Right… and what’s his deal exactly?” 

“He’s just creepy and weird…” You rubbed your arm, “Whenever we go to the same party he’ll spend the whole time trying to talk to me, he tried to kiss me last time we were in the same room and he just never seems to get the hint.”

Noah’s jaw flexed as he folded his arms across his chest. 

“And Jess’s boyfriend is friends with this guy?”

“They’re housemates. I don’t think Sam knows how creepy he is.” 

“Right,” Noah nodded, “So carry on, you’re going to a party and a strange guy's gonna be there, and…?”

You hesitated, suddenly feeling a little small under his stare. 

“...And Jess suggested maybe I bring someone with me, to scare him off.” 

Something shifted in his expression at that, something a little lighter. His tongue pressed against his cheek as he gave a small, humourless laugh. 

“So you want me to come and play bodyguard boyfriend?”

You huffed, shaking your head and turning back to the printer. 

“No. Forget it, it was stupid to even-”

“Hey,” he reached for your arm, spinning you back around, “I didn’t say no. I just wanted to make sure I heard you right.” 

You looked up at him, swallowing hard, your heart racing despite your best efforts. 

“Yeah. I just thought that maybe if you came with me, he’d finally back off.”

Noah stared at you for a moment, before his lips curved into a little smirk, but this one felt different. 

“Okay,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets, “Yeah. I’ll come with you.” 

“Really?” You asked, almost a little shocked. 

“Yeah,” he shrugged casually, “If some weird guy’s been bothering you, you think I’m gonna let that slide? You shouldn’t have to deal with that.” 

You furrowed your brows at him, surprised by how sincere he sounded. 

“Noah…” 

“No, don’t get sentimental on me, babe. I’m just not gonna let some loser stare at what’s mine all night.” 

“Yours?” You raised a brow, your tummy fluttering stupidly. 

“As your fake boyfriend, obviously.” He said quickly, but the little smirk that followed told you he knew exactly what he was doing. “So when is this thing?”

“...On halloween. It’s a halloween party.” You said flatly. 

You watched him bite his lip, like he was thinking, or hesitating… though it only lasted a moment. 

“Okay. I’ll make sure I’m all yours that night.” He smirked. 

“Thank you.” You said, your words genuine even if they came out a little more quiet than you wanted. 

“No problem,” he smirked, “But y’know, if I’m doing this- if we’re doing this… I have a couple conditions...” 

“Oh god, here we go.” You groaned. 

“First of all, you’ve gotta call me babe all night.” 

Your eyes widened in fear. 

“You’re joking.” 

“Do I look like I’m joking?” He said, tilting his head, “If we’re pretending to be a couple, we’ve gotta sell it. We can’t have this creep thinking we're just friends, or worse… coworkers!” 

“You’re an idiot.” You snorted, but you couldn’t help the little smirk creeping up on your lips. 

“And second, I get to pick our costumes.” 

“No!!”  

“C’mon! If we’re going to a halloween party as a couple then we have to dress up! I’ll pick you something out.” 

“Pfft,” you shook your head, “Choosing what I get to wear, making me call you babe, what next? You gonna keep me in the kitchen and make me raise your five kids?!” 

“Of course not! I’m a feminist.” He said proudly. 

“Mm, sure.” You rolled your eyes, sitting back down at your desk. “Just don’t put me in anything slutty, Noah.” 

He smiled, far too innocently. 

“Would I ever do that to you?” 

“Yes.” 

…

Noah: hey babe what size are you

A few days had passed, it was now Sunday afternoon and you stared at the message on your phone, confused for a solid five seconds before texting back.

You: ?

Noah: i said what size are you?? can’t you read??

You: y’know its kinda rude to ask a woman what size she is…

Noah: hey it’s not like i give a fuck about what size you are

Noah: i just need to know because i’m costume shopping 🙂

You: NO

Noah: YES

Noah: NOW TELL ME OR I’LL HAVE TO GUESS

You sighed and told him, already regretting asking him to come with you. 

You spent the rest of the day half panicking, half curious about what he could possibly choose for you. He wasn’t going to tell you what he got, he wasn’t even going to tell you what he was going to be, but when there was a knock at your door the next night, you had some kind of idea as to who it was. 

And you were right. You opened the door to Noah, standing there with a smug grin, holding a glossy back bag. 

“No… I don’t like that face, or whatever is in that bag.” 

“Relax, babe,” he said, stepping into your home, “I come bearing gifts.” 

He dropped the bag down on your coffee table and you eyed him suspiciously as you shut the door. 

“What is it?”

“Look for yourself.” He said, a smirk tugging at his lips. 

You swallowed hard as you stepped over towards the table and reached into the bag… 

“NOAH! I TOLD YOU NOTHING SLUTTY!!” 

He chuckled, sitting down on your couch like he owned the damn place. 

“I know,” he smirked, “But c’mon, it looks hot, right?”

“It’s… blasphemous!” 

“It’s an erotic nun, babe. Don’t you think it’s ironic, since you-” 

You shot him a glare, which seemed to shut him up. 

“There is no way I’m wearing this shit.” 

The outfit- if you could call it that- was basically just a low cut black body suit with a tiny skirt attached, and a veil. 

“If Zach sees me in this I-”

“If Zach sees you in this then he’ll respect your boundaries, because you should be allowed to wear whatever the fuck you want and not have to worry about guys like him.” Noah said, crossing his arms. “Clothes do not equal consent, sweetheart.” 

You hated when he made comments like that, because it made it hard to hate him. 

“I know that,” you said, trying to ignore how his words made you feel, “But I don’t even want to wear that!” 

“Hey, you might change your mind once you’ve tried it on! Oh- and I’m not leaving here until you do.” He smirked.  

“You asshole,” you shook your head, shoving the clothes back into the bag, “So what are you gonna be? The devil?”

He shrugged. 

“Close.” 

“Close?” 

“I’m gonna be your hot priest… now c’mon, I’ve not got all day, babe.” 

You scoffed, picking the bag up. 

“Why? Who are you hooking up with tonight?”

“Oh, there’s no hookup tonight. I’ve got some songs to record.” 

“Bad Omens?”

“Yup.” He nodded, “We’ve almost finished recording our first album. It’s gonna be sick.” 

“I’m sure it is…” You said, before disappearing off into the bathroom with the bag. 

When you stepped back out a few minutes later, the air in the room seemingly changed. Noah looked up from his phone, and for once, he didn’t have anything smart to say.

He just blinked, slow and stunned, and then a small, crooked grin crept back onto his face.

“Well, holy shit,” he gasped. 

You folded your arms over your chest, trying to cover up at least a little skin.

“Don’t.”

“I’m not saying anything!” He said quickly, though the smirk tugging at his mouth betrayed him. His eyes swept down and back up again, and for once he didn’t even try to hide it. “You look… wow.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the heat crawling up your neck. 

“It’s ridiculous. I look ridiculous.”

“No,” he said, shaking his head, still very much staring. “You look sinful. Which, I guess, is kinda the point.”

“You’re such an ass.” You said, shoving at his shoulder as you walked past him, but he caught your wrist for just a second, enough for your pulse to race before he let go.

“You’re blushing.” He grinned softly.

You froze.

 “I’m not.”

“Uh-huh.” He was smiling now, but it wasn’t the usual cocky smirk, it was smaller, quieter, the type that made your stomach do that stupid flip. “You really don’t see what I see, do you?”

That shut you up.

“Serioulsy, you look… unreal. I don’t even have the words.”

“Right, and when do I get to see Father Noah?” You tilted your head. 

“Soon babe, when you’re ready to confess…” 

Your mouth fell open. 

“Get out of my house, Noah.”

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

@respectfulrebel @bluehairpunklol @sallyba3 @buttercupbabyyy @curse-bearing-hips @kenjipepsi1 @theservantbones @anything-morethan-human @lacy1986 @flowery-mess @eclipseeetop @jesuisunchaton @pipidoll @ami-gami @cemetery-cuddles @sugaruapologist @lowergroundfloor @miiichellaaaaa @popularpopularmonster @mapsychoticimagination @overmydeadbodysblog @bridemassacre @haileebluee @lowergroundfloor @eversiinceny @lookinalittleblue @dominuslunae @spacec0wgirl777 @lyschko666 @hbbbjjjb @looney-goose-19f @lilith-jae @athenexe @mushrumink @lonesomegrace @nyriastark @thefountainn @bloodykissesx @death-core-fairy @geminigirlfromfinland @worldofashton @bbomski14 @111amyyy @amelia-acero @justdamnpeachy @badomensspecter @miss570 @voidkissedpages @justdamnpeachy @ajordan2020 @emocrouton

Eddie?

Your hands freeze in the paper bag, hyper-focusing on the answering machine.

“Uh, hey, kid. I didn’t know you were leaving, sorry I didn’t get to say goodbye. Steve won’t tell me shit, as usual, just that you quit… so… hope you’re okay. If you need anything, we’re here for you.”

The tape stops, leaving you alone in an empty, soulless apartment, tears slipping down your face and into the bag of food. You know Eddie’s being honest that Steve won’t tell him what happened, because he says “we’re here for you”.

And with the way you abandoned Steve, abandoned something that could’ve continued to flourish, abandoned a job you actually loved, there’s no way Steve would want to hear from you again.

After all, that silent, hidden, yet comforting presence you could feel most sleepless nights, lulling you into safe, restful dreams, had vanished completely.

It was only fair, after all— Steve gave up on you, the way you gave up on him.

⋆.˚───── 🩸 ─────˚.⋆

The next evening, you miss a call during your shower. The little blinking red light catches your attention as you leave the bathroom, wrapped in your robe.

Changing into pajamas can wait; you hit play, allowing the machine to give you the time and date before Eddie begins addressing you again.

“Steve’s too chickenshit to call after whatever the fuck happened, but he wants you to know you can come grab your stuff whenever you’re ready, no rush. If it helps, I can pick it up and drop it off. I don’t know what happened between you two, but he’s been a miserable son of a bitch ever since you left. That’s— I’m not saying it’s your fault. Whatever he did or said, though, he sure as fuck won’t forgive himself for, so uh… just really hope you’re okay.”

Silence fills the room, but the tape rolls on for a few seconds before Eddie sighs.

“Sorry for this. Hope you’re taking care of yourself, kid.”

The tape clicks off, and you’re left with your mind and heart treading in a sea of emotions.

You’re lost, you’re angry, you’re depressed, and you hate that Steve seems to be blaming himself for you leaving. He didn’t drive you away, you left out of pure cowardice, masked in the excuse of protecting you both.

Instead, you’re both left wounded and heartbroken.

⋆.˚───── 🩸 ─────˚.⋆

The third night goes by silently, and you consider that to be the end of Eddie reaching out on behalf of Steve.

On the fourth night, though, Eddie leaves another voicemail, one you’re around to hear in real time while mindlessly watching TV, but can’t bring yourself to pick up mid-recording.

“So, uh… I really hope I’ve been calling the right number, otherwise this message is gonna sound fuckin’ nuts… if it’s not the right number, you heard nothing.”

That nearly brings a faint smile to your face, until Eddie says:

“Steve’s not feeding. I don’t think he has in days… and the, um,” Eddie coughs dramatically, “‘supply’ doesn’t stay fresh for long… he keeps telling me he’s not hungry.”

Your heart drops. Steve, from what he shared, didn’t like to take blood from the living, and you knew it was only a matter of time before blood of the deceased goes bad. Really bad.

“I know losing Robin hit him hard, but…” he grumbles some curses under his breath. “I think losing you in the same night is really doing a number on him.”

Bile rises in your throat; you never once considered how leaving in the same night that Robin died could mar his heart so heavily. He lost his best friend, his platonic soulmate, and then he loses you hours after confessing his truth, his feelings…

Oh, god. What have I done?

 “Look, you don’t owe us shit right now, sure as fuck don’t owe anything to Steve… but I don’t know what to do or how to help him... and I know he means a lot to you, too, so I thought you should know about this.”

You could pick up the phone, grab it before Eddie hangs up, tell him everything and return to help Steve— but you’re frozen solid in your chair. By fear? Rejection? You’re unsure. You should pick up, or call back the moment his message ends, but you can’t.

There’s a sound of rustling, and in the distance you can hear footsteps bounding closer, with Steve yelling, “Eddie, I swear to god if you’re calling her again—“

“Dude! She has a right to know!”

“Fucking— give me that!“ there’s a slight struggle, a grunt, before you assume Steve takes the phone, voice closer, painfully crystal clear. “I don’t want to drag her down anymore!”

The call clicks onto dead air, whirring the tape to a halt. The TV drones on in the background, overshadowed by your shallow, panicked breaths.

Is that what he thinks? Is that what I made him think? He’s dragging me down? I fucked up, I fucked up so badly—

You find the strength to stumble out of your chair, clambering over to phone, but your hand hovers, fear holding you back again.

You could clearly hear how wounded he feels, just in that quick exchange. Would calling even help? Or would it make things worse?

He won’t want to hear from me, and I don’t blame him. 

Reluctantly, you back away from the phone, eventually crawling into bed.

Steve’s words haunt you for the remainder of the night, keeping you in a restless state until dawn.

⋆.˚───── 🩸 ─────˚.⋆

You’re struggling to stay upright, afraid to even pour yourself some coffee and drop the pot out of pure exhaustion. 

It’s morning, and you’re not sure if you slept a little or just imagined you did within your deprived state. So when the phone rings, it doesn’t register in your mind until two rings before the answering machine picks up. When Eddie frantically rambles, it takes you a minute to realize it’s morning.

He’s never up at this hour, neither is Steve, and now knowing the truth you understand why, so it’s alarming he’s calling so early.

“Kid, listen, I- I‘m going away for a bit, once night falls. I asked Steve if he needed me to stay but he wants me gone anyway.” A ragged sigh laced with frustration at best deflates out of Eddie. “I’m not telling you what to do, or what not to do, but just… be careful if you stop by to grab your shit, okay? If you decide to check on him, keep your distance.”

Fear slips back into your heart, pounding in your chest.

“He’s… he’s not himself right now. He won’t be until he feeds, and I can’t force him to. Trust me. I tried once back in ‘67, it was fuckin’ horrible.”

You’d laugh at his anecdote if this wasn’t so serious.

“Steve wouldn’t hurt you, though. I’m freaked out he’ll do something stupid in front of you, but never to you. He cares about you way too much.”

How could he still care? After what I’ve done to him?

“Here’s the number for where I’m staying…” Eddie rattles off a sequence of digits for you. “Call if anything gets worse. Stay safe, kid.”

⋆.˚───── 🩸 ─────˚.⋆

The sixth day, the phone rings mid-afternoon, you allow the answering machine to do its job while you attempt to focus on a book you’re reading, but you’ve been stuck on page 29 for a half hour now.

Heavy, shivering breaths rattle out of the speakers and through your apartment. It’s enough to make you jump, sending your heart racing. Your breath hitches as you wait for the caller to speak up.

It’s not Eddie this time.

“A- angel?”

Tears spring to your eyes— Steve sounds so fragile right now, the complete opposite of how he carries himself normally.

“Fuck, shouldn’t call you that anymore… m’sorry.” He’s slurring a little, as if he’s just your average human who had one too many drinks. Any hint of formality in his speech has vanished. “I should’ve kept everything to myself, but I was selfish. I’m so sorry.”

You throw the book aside, swinging your legs off the couch to stare down the answering machine across the room.

“Don’t worry about your credits, I’ll make sure you still get those, but you don’t have to come back… I’d love to have you back…but that’s not— you—“

Steve shudders out something akin to a sob; you can just picture his blood red tears, and it makes you sick.

You are the reason he feels so broken.

“If you come by to pick up your belongings, I’ll stay out of your way,” he promises. “Thank you… for being a part of my life, if only for a blip in time. I’m grateful you even gifted me that.”

No one, platonic or romantic, has ever talked to you this way, talked about your connection to them this way.

You royally fucked up leaving him that night.

“I’m sorry I can’t help you sleep anymore… but I hope you can still find sweet dreams.”  He takes one final breath, and you finally find the courage to rush to the machine, ready to pick up and apologize left and right. Before you can reach the phone, he murmurs, “Goodbye, angel.”

The tape clicks off, just as your fingertips hit the phone.

Maybe this was beyond repair. Maybe not. The only way to find out is to try.

⋆.˚───── 🩸 ─────˚.⋆

Not one light is on inside the funeral home.

It took more time than you’d have liked— after 9 days of moping, avoiding calls, crying over voicemails, and dreading what’s to come, you reluctantly return, ready to pick up the rest of your belongings, and drop off your key to this former workplace you loved dearly.

Love. Still present tense. Strange to say about a place filled with death, but there’s more heart within this building than out in the real world.

There’s more heart within Steve than normally found in living beings.

The lights inside the home are always on, even if only dim. An unsettling feeling washes over you the moment you step through the front door. Some dull light peeks through the curtains, the grey kind on a cloudy day that can’t kill Steve; it only makes him ill if he’s out in that diffused light for too long.

You knew Eddie was on vacation, but Steve should still be here— he lives right upstairs anyway.

“… Hello?”

Nothing.

The door to Steve’s office is open, and you can make out a figure in the shadows, but barely. 

“Steve?”

You allow your eyes to adjust to the light; he’s slumped over in his chair, head resting on his desk. He gives a weak grunt in return.

“What’s going on?”

“You need to leave,” He rasps out, sounding pained. It only urges you to move closer to him. “Don’t—“

“I just wanted to grab the rest of my stuff and drop off the key.” You keep your voice soft, calm, unsure what could trigger him further into whatever has him so weak and bitter. “Will you be alright?”

He slides his palms along the ebony wood desk, nails scraping into the dark surface as he pushes himself up with all the strength in his body. You rush to flip on a light, but he cries out in agony.

“Turn it off!”

Catching a glimpse of his face in the light, he looks like hell. His features are more gaunt, sickly pale than ever before; he appears as if he could wither away any second.

“I said off!” He slams his hands down on the desk, but it comes out as a weak slap instead. “Turn them off!”

You flip the switch while his anger grows, breaths falling ragged.

“I- I’m sorry.” You rush over to him, leaning over the desk to reach out for him, but he shoves your hands away, collapsing into the desk chair again. “What happened?”

“It doesn’t matter—“

“No. Don’t start that.” His attitude is dissolving your patience within seconds. “Tell me what happened, right now.”

“Did you forget how to listen? I said—“

You grab his face, firm hold, but not rough, just like he’s done to you before; his distant stare trails back to you with the exchange of control.

“And I said tell me what happened. Right. Now.” He’s unbearably cold, unlike anything you’ve felt before on his skin. It almost hurts, as if your fingers were shoved in snow for far too long. “You’re clearly unwell, Steve. What the hell is going on?”

Steve’s bottom lip trembles, just enough to catch it in the limited light.

“It hurts.”

Your expression softens, pitying him. “What hurts?”

“No more bodies.” His weak answer clicks for you immediately. 

“Are you saying…” Eddie didn’t mention this in the messages. “Shit.” You fumble around in the dark to grab your sunglasses out of your bag, shoving them at Steve. “Put these on, I need to turn the light—“

“No!”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do right now.” Stomping across the room, you flip the switch, and Steve hisses, as if you shoved him directly into sunlight. Never have you heard such a sound leave him before. “Put them on, ‘cause I need the damn light to see what’s wrong.”

 Viewing him in the light churns your stomach; normally, he’s pretty pale, but his skin is worn thin, transparent enough to see his strained veins with ease. Circles dark as night, with a purple tinge around the edges, hang heavy under his eyes; they’re prominent enough they push past the lenses of the sunglasses you forced on him. His hair is coarse and dry, lips chapped, and overall just looks frail.

Violently, you shove aside any and all hurt feelings; what matters most to you in this moment is reviving him.

“When did you last feed?”

You already knew the answer from Eddie’s voicemails, but you wanted to hear it from Steve directly. He shrugs, and even that is an aching effort; wincing from said pain also takes more energy than expected.

“A week ago? I…” his head lolls to the side, gripping the armrests of his chair weakly. “Haven’t had calls in a few days… like it matters.”

“Has this ever happened before? Like, a pause of embalmings, I mean.” He shakes his head. “No emergency blood stashes?” He grunts. “What should I do?”

“Nothing.”

“Oh, for fucks’ sake, Steve, I’m not leaving you like this.”

“I deserve it.” His breathing is shallow, slumping little by little in the chair. “After overstepping the line… making you uncomfortable enough to leave—“

“No, it was my fault not yours, and—“ Shaking your head, you push hurt feelings aside. “None of that matters right now.” 

You rush out of the room, flipping on the hallway light; when you return, you keep the door ajar, just for enough light to see, while you kill the light in the room. “Just tell me what to do. Should— fuck, I- I’ll bring someone back here if it means you’ll feel better. Tell me what you need, Steve.”

He only shrugs. You’re losing your patience, only because you want to help him, fix this, save him. 

… There is one way to end his suffering immediately, though.

“How much blood do you need?” Your heartbeat roars through your ears as you try not to think too deeply into this. “What if you used me?”

Steve’s breath hitches in his throat, stays silent for a beat too long, convincing you he just died on the spot. He clears his throat, hoarsely speaking out, “… Absolutely not.”

“Is it possible to just take what you need? I’d be okay, I— I trust you, y’know.” He shakes his head, struggling to sit up straight. He throws the sunglasses onto the desk, groaning through mirthless, flat laughter. “It’s this or die, and you’re not dying on my watch.”

“Already dead, angel.”

You roll your eyes; he’s worse than humans when they get hangry.

You stand before him, running a hand through his hair, brittle and scratchy against your fingers; a stark difference to how luminous, soft, and effortlessly gorgeous it usually is. The touch still soothes him, just barely, but enough to relax his shoulders a bit. You take the opportunity as he melts into your touch, climbing onto his lap; it’s a bit uncomfortable as you swing your legs over his to straddle him, awkwardly hanging them under the armrests. 

“Wh- what are you—“ Your arms wind around his neck, resting your forehead gently against his. His attempt at a warning tone comes out breathy and desperate, “Angel…”

“Do this one thing for me, okay? I need you to listen to me, just this once, and I swear to god, I’ll be out of your hair forever.”

If Steve wasn’t on the cusp of expiration, he’d tease you with something like ‘there is no god’, but he just whimpers. If the situation wasn’t dire, you’d allow yourself to revel in the fact your words made a vampire whimper.

“Please? I know you won’t…” Hurt you? Kill you? You can’t bring yourself to voice either. “You wouldn’t go too far.”

“You don’t know…” He trembles underneath you, restraining himself with the last of his self control. “… what you’re asking for, angel.”

“I do know. If I didn’t trust you, didn’t believe you could control yourself, I wouldn’t offer.” I’m out of my fucking mind. “Steve, please.”

You’d kill for a moment like this under different circumstances; one where you’re both in this solely for the attraction and pleasure. One where his lips are close to yours like this, almost touching, all because he wants you in other ways, not like this; not where you’re begging him to quite literally suck the life out of you, all to survive.

“You’re scared,” He rasps, observing the way your skin prickles with his frostbite-inducing touch. He trails a hand up to the back of your neck, fingers splaying against your head and weakly tangling into your hair. “I’m scared, too.”

You’re glad you wore an older, worn shirt, one that stretches with ease as you pull at the collar to expose your neck.

“So… How bad will it hurt?”

“Bad, but only f- for a second.” He licks his lips, tongue sticking to his bottom lip for a second from how dry it is. “I wanted to— I wish this was— I wish we were—“

Gently, you shush him, head rolling to the side for easier access. “Save your energy, and tell me after.” You shiver against him, whether from the chill he holds or the anxiousness, it’s unclear. “I’m ready,” you whisper, but your quivering voice says otherwise.

Steve hesitantly leans into you, lips grazing your jaw, trailing down with weak kisses to your neck. They’re cold, stiff, but the mere thought alone of him kissing you makes you weak. It’s hard to hold back your shuddering breaths, aching to transform into needy whines. He’s murmuring apologies into your skin before his lips come to a halt. 

He nuzzles his face into your neck, while your fingers find purchase in the fabric of his shirt, gripping tightly to brace yourself. At first, he’s sucking softly, like he’s trying to leave behind a mark, claim his territory. Involuntarily, you moan into his ear, and that drives him to sink his fangs into your neck.

“O- oh… fuck.”

He wasn’t kidding; this shit hurts.

The pain hits hard, searing through your neck and rapidly reaching every inch of your insides. You seize up as he pulls you closer, fangs plunging deeper. The unmistakable, metallic scent of blood fills the air, making your head spin. He inhales the sharp essence, body quaking against your own.

A faint sob rolls out as the inferno in your neck intensifies, trying your best not to squirm in his hold. He pulls back, barely, but enough for a rush of a chill to filter into the puncture wounds, making you cry again.

“Shh, shh, I’m sorry, angel.” He winds his free arm around your waist, fingers dancing along your back in soothing patterns. “It’ll feel good soon, I promise.” Even from the minimal blood he’s taken, he’s starting to sound a little more coherent. Again, he bites into you, and the pain begins to radiate away, only to actually fade completely.

You’re very aware of what’s going on, what he’s doing, but now it only feels as if he’s suckling gently on your neck. The scent of blood, and the drips of it cascading down your neck are still incredibly noticeable, but it’s not alarming anymore. In fact, it’s almost… pleasant.

The sounds of your shuddering breaths fill the room, floating among the faint noises of satisfaction, muffled against your neck as he continues to indulge in this feeding.

The pleasant sensation rolls into euphoria, urging your body to move on its own accord. You arch your back, pressing against him while whining. The whines turn to soft, airy moans, while your hips begin rolling back and forth. You’re in a daze, aware of what you’re doing, but too high on the bliss of Steve sucking your blood to care.

Slowly, he regains his strength, little by little with each draw of blood; it shows in the way his grip on you becomes sturdier, and how he pulls you even closer, satisfied noises muffled against your skin as his mouth fills with your blood. When you grind down a little too hard into his lap, his hips jolt up into you, earning a surprised moan.

Steve pulls his mouth back again, panting wildly. Though you want to look at him, you can’t bring yourself to; one look at the blood on his face will send you into a spiral, you just know it. 

Draining blood and bodily fluids out of a corpse? No big deal, that’s a breeze to you. Witnessing your own blood drip down Steve’s face? It doesn’t disgust you, but it’s quite a bit to take in, with emotions heightened and an unexpected desire, rising deep from within.

“Could get addicted to your taste, angel.” Whining, you lean forward, urging him to take more. You’re both intoxicated by the lust that seems to accompany the act of feeding. He laps at the blood rolling down from the wounds. “How do you feel?”

“Need you,” You groan, rutting against the bulge underneath you. You’re so lost in the haze of pleasure, you’re unsure if he’s hardening, or you’re imagining it. “Need y’so bad, Steve.”

The hand on your hip tightens, digging his fingers into the plush curve. That’s when you dare to steal a glance, and yeah, you were right, the sight of your blood dripping down his pretty face is sending you into a tailspin.

“We should not do this,” he grits his blood tinged teeth. “Angel, we can’t.”

“We can— we already are,” You fight his hold, grinding against him lazily. It’s enough pressure, enough friction, where it catches on the seam of your jeans just right. Gasping, your eyes flutter shut as the pleasure builds. “Please?”

“This is why I warned you— shit.” Your grinding begins to reward him, too, causing his head to thunk onto the chair’s back with a hiss. His other hand departs from your neck, firmly grabbing your other hip, trying to stop you from moving. He has the super strength to halt your actions, but he’s not trying to hurt you. Not past feeding off of you, at least. “We’re done, I’m feeling okay enough to stop, alright? Just… will you stop fucking doing that— fuck—“ He sounds so beautiful, all breathy with gasps and shudders.

“I can’t, I- I don’t—“ Burning. Your skin is burning. There’s tears welling in your eyes while distress consumes your expression. “—it hurts, Steve.”

His eyes clamp shut, trying to steady his breathing and weigh the pros and cons to himself. If anything else happens, it’ll change things between the two of you forever.

Things have already changed, though, and drastically; he’s already crossed so many lines, as have you. Your dynamic shifted permanently since the night he admitted the truth about his past. The point of no return was the confessions of affection later that night.

The regret Steve couldn’t reverse already had done its damage; he was certain you’d both were on separate paths, for good. Now, you’re here, when he needed help, needed you the most.

You really are some kind of angel to him; the least he can do is help you in return.

“What hurts?” He’s half expecting you to gesture to your neck, but unsurprised when you only shove your hips into his lap desperately. “I am not going to force anything, but whatever can ease the pain, I’ll guide you through. Alright?”

You nod frantically, pulling your shirt off before he can protest. He’s dumbfounded, and lovestruck, politeness kicking in to keep his eyes from wandering down your figure. “M’sorry, it’s just— I feel— it’s hot and cold, and a little dizzy, I- I— I don’t know how else to describe it—“

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” Steve coos, grip loosening enough to caress your hips, slowly inching up your sides with each slide of his fingers along your curves. He allows his stare to stray, breath hitching while he takes in your figure for only a moment. “Take what you need.”

With permission, you drag your clothed heat against his, earning a delicious shudder from him. In ecstasy, your head eventually lolls back after a few thrusts against him, breathy whimpers spilling from your lips. He does as he promised, guiding you along by your sides, pushing and pulling gently with your motions.

“There you go…” A throaty groan follows his praise as you wriggle down, adding more friction against his cock. He leans forward, kissing your collarbone, lips lingering each time he does. “You’re doing so well, angel.”

“Again… please, again…”

“What are you asking for? Don’t be afraid, you can tell me.” He slides a hand up your back, splaying his fingers again as he brings you closer. “I’ve got you.”

You roll your head forward, lids weighty with lust as your mouth falls open, focused on the space where your clothed heat meets his own. Between the blood loss— while not significantly dangerous, enough to keep you lightheaded— and the sinful release building within, it’s difficult to find the necessary words.

With a wavering hand, you trace a finger along the bite mark he left behind, gradually still oozing drops of blood. Some of it gets on your finger; you bring it up to his lips, patiently waiting for him to catch on. His tongue flits out, eyes rolling back, tasting you again. His gaze blows wide with lust before parting his lips, coaxing your finger in with his tongue lapping at the blood. He suckles softly, moaning around your digit before pulling back.

 “It’s sinful how delicious you are…” He licks the skin clean, gasping as you find a steady, devious pace with grinding. 

“A little more?” You pant, bringing that same finger to your own lips before lazily licking over his blood tinged spit left behind. “Please, Steve. Wanna feel you again.”

Tongue rolling over his lips, he stares down his piercing handiwork.

“Are you sure—“

“Yes!”

Steve’s fangs sink into the existing marks, but there’s been too long of a pause since he first pulled away, so the searing ache returns— and only grows.

“Ngh— is it…“ A ringing builds slowly in your ears, limbs tingling with an airy, lightheaded sensation. “Steve, is this supposed to—“ Your own guttural cry interrupts you, startling him off your neck. The pain breaks through your lust-clouded mind. “M’sorry, I didn’t— I thought it wouldn’t hurt—“

He cradles your face in his hands, thumbs caressing your cheeks and wiping away a stream of tears. 

“You’ve no reason to apologize, it’s my fault.”

Even through the suffering that has returned with a vengeance, it’s a relief to see how much better he appears. Yet something about offering yourself to him past the point of need turns you on.

“But I— god this is embarrassing. I begged you, and…” The ringing hasn’t stopped, breaths falling shallow. “I still want—“

 “No, and that’s final.” He pretends to ignore the way your hips twitch at his order, tucks it away for another time—if he’s lucky. “I should’ve known your limits and played it safe, I’m so sorry.”

“Steve—“

“Hold still,” He leans back into your neck, but you flinch. “Angel, I need to stop the bleeding. This won’t hurt at all, I swear.”

Steve kisses the wound, but doesn’t suck from it. He licks along the aftermath, lapping up the blood as it slows. You can’t see what’s happening, but you can feel the pain ebb away. Though it’s not as satisfying as when he drank your blood the first time, it’s certainly relieving.

It doesn’t ease every side effect, though.

“Steve? I really…” Air slips away as you try catching your breath, struggling to speak up. “… I don’t feel so good…”

 Your vision begins to tunnel in, slumping in his embrace. Everything begins to float away like a dream, while sleep steals you quickly. 

You never hear the panic in Steve’s voice as he calls your name, begging you to stay awake.

⋆.˚───── 🩸 ─────˚.⋆

“Quite extraordinary how vampires work, hm?”

You open your eyes, but everything’s bright white and blurred. Sitting up, everything feels heavy, making your brain spin.

“You should rest. It’s okay. The first time is overwhelming, and a bit frightening.” A voice recalls. “Had to help him once, and fainted while he fed from my arm.”

Coming into focus is a woman, standing overhead of you. She has kind eyes with a smile to match, with freckles glittered across her face; something about her seems familiar, but you’re not sure what.

Her hand slips into yours as she sits by your side.

“You don’t have to fear him, though. He’d truly do anything to keep you safe.” Her voice is so soothing, easing your worried thoughts. “He stands by his word. Even if you decide to go your separate ways, he’ll care for you, if you let him.”

“Who… Steve?”

The woman nods.

“Thank you for keeping him safe. He’ll never admit it, but he needs someone to look out for him, too.”

Wait— “Robin?” Her smile widens, kind gaze lighting up; she looks just as she did in that portrait with Steve. “I- I- I’m so sorry. I’m not trying to overstep, o- or take your place—“

“You’re taking a place he’s held open for so long, waiting for someone right to step in.” Softly, she squeezes your hand, “It was never like that with him and I, you know that. It’s relieving to see how happy he’s become since you entered his life.”

Guilt for leaving him settles in the pit of your stomach. “What if I ruin things? I don’t want to hurt him again.”

“You won’t. Just allow yourself to love again, and allow love to come to you. The rest will fall into place.”

Love? Is that what you’ve been feeling? Does he feel the same?

“Is he… is he okay?”

“You saved his life. I’d consider that incredibly okay.” She takes your free hand in hers, clasping them both together in her gentle, warm grip. “I hate to ask anything more of you, especially after the eventful day you’ve had… but would you pass a message along to him?”

It’s hard to focus as you gawk over her presence. Robin’s gorgeous, but her kindness brings out the best of her features; you can tell why Steve was mesmerized by her from the start, even if he grew out of those feelings rather quickly. 

“Ye- yeah, yes, of course.” You reply quickly, a bit embarrassed for staring. “What’s the message?”

“A few things: that I’ll miss my best friend dearly, and I’m eternally grateful for his love and care.” Her gaze grows glassy as tears well along her lash line, offering a pensive smile. She squeezes your hands once more, bottom lip trembling slightly. “And please… let him know I made it home safely.”

Without a chance to reply, your surroundings and Robin begin to dissolve into dust around you.

⋆.˚───── 🩸 ─────˚.⋆

Something hard hits you, startling you awake. Rather, you hit something hard— the floor, to be exact. 

Gripping your head, you groan from the unwelcome wake up call; footsteps dart closer to the doorway before it slams open, scaring you even more.

“Motherfucker— What the fuck—“

“Are you alright? Did you…” Steve scans over your figure; you’re fatigued, but nothing looks severely injured. He bites back a laugh. “You tumbled out of bed, didn’t you?”

“I’m dizzy! Not my fault, since you nearly sucked the life out of me.”

He sighs, shaking his head; with complete ease, he lifts you in his arms, bridal style, to rest you on the bed. You realize you’re in his bedroom while he pulls the covers over you. You’re also half naked, save for the boring bra and comfortable shorts you had worn.

God, why didn’t I wear a cuter bra—

Hang on … Why the fuck am I shirtless?

“How the hell did you lift me? Where’s my shirt?” You grab the comforter, covering your torso; it’s pointless, he’s clearly seen it all. “Why does it feel like I was hit by a train?”

Steve holds out a fist, straightening out a finger one by one with each answer. “With my arms, you threw it off while I was feeding from you, and probably from the blood loss— first time’s rough, I hear.” 

“With my arms— okay, smartass, I’m not very light, y’know— Wait—” You wonder how you even made it into his bed to begin with. “You lifted me all the way up here? How?”

“I’m sure there’s a name more fitting than ‘super vampire strength’, but basically that.” Steve wiggles his eyebrows like a goofball, making you giggle. “Perks of being the scary monster with pointy teeth.”

He’s only joking, but your expression still falls. “You’re not a monster, Steve.”

“Maybe not to you.”

“Anyone who thinks otherwise is clearly boring and wrong.” Still semi-delirious, you reach your hands out to him, making grabbing motions in front of his face. Confused, he laughs softly, pretty fangs flashing in the dim candlelight. 

“What are you doing?”

“Grabby hands.” He’s still lost, but his gentle grin doesn’t fade as you wiggle your fingers. “C’mere.”

“In bed? With you? You think that’s—“

“Yes. Just wanna cuddle. I gave you my life juice—“

“Ew, angel, don’t call it that.”

“Whatever. The least you can do is hug me.”

Steve’s body twitches, like he wants to immediately slide into bed next to you, but he hesitates. “That’s… not such a good idea. You’re still recovering…. and you wanted to leave for good. I made you uncomfortable.”

“Only because it felt necessary, thought it’d protect us both,” you admit with a hint of shame. “Not once have you ever made me feel uncomfortable, either.”

“How would that ever be necessary?” He sounds wounded, and you want to kick yourself that you believed walking away was the best option for you both. “I never wanted you to leave.”

“Then don’t let me go again.”

Steve runs his hand through his hair, exhaling slowly while he mulls over his decision; as if giving in to cuddling is a harder decision than whatever the hell happened earlier.

In seconds, he caves.

“Alright, alright. You win, angel.” He slips under the covers with you, while you’re already eager to share body heat and cozy up next to him.

Except there isn’t any body heat when it comes to this man.

His bare arms curl around you, making you yelp as his chilled skin meets your warmth. Shivering in his embrace, he notices the way you tremble, immediately pulling back. “I— wait, hang on.”

You still must be out of it, because you don’t realize he’s draping something over your shoulders. The sleeves tumble down your arms, enveloping you, soothing the shivers out of your body. It’s a loose, slouchy cardigan, stitches worn down from heavy, consistent love; you realize it’s the sweater he wore the night you two awkwardly tried to talk about your relationship. A relationship you’re still lost on.

“I can grab more blankets, too, if you’d—“ Steve only means to glance for a second, but he’s stuck, admiring you with his undivided attention. Heat burns under your skin as he continues to stare. “You’re so pretty, angel.”

Heat burrows under your skin from his compliment.

Sliding back into bed, his hold curves around you again. It’s easier to snuggle closer now with the knitted barrier, but you still duck your head under his chin, teeth chattering as you rest your face on his chest.

“Do you ever warm up?”

“You’re really bothered by the cold, aren’t you?”

“No— well, kinda, but doesn’t it bother you?”

Steve chuckles softly, but you feel the vibrations rumble in his chest against your own.

“Not really, no. It’s not uncommon for vampires.” He murmurs against the top of your head, sending shivers down your spine. “Are you scared I’ll freeze to death?”

“You’re already dead, Steve.”

“Un-dead, excuse you.” He corrects smugly. You scoff, and he misses the eye roll you give, face still buried in his chest. He’s tracing his fingers along your back, caressing up and down your spine. His voice drops just above a whisper, “Thank you for helping me. I know that isn’t why you returned, but… thank you.”

“I’m sorry I even left. You didn’t deserve that.” You inch back to meet his stare. “How are you feeling?”

“Better. Much better, thanks to you. And luckily, we’ve started getting business again the last two days, so that’s helped with the blood supply—“

You shoot up, squawking out, “I’m sorry, two days?” The room tilts, and it must be apparent by your expression, since Steve immediately guides you slowly back against the bed.

He winces, nodding slowly. “I tried gently waking you several times, but figured you really needed the rest. I hadn’t realized how much blood I took from you until you passed out in my arms.” Now he’s the one who jolts up suddenly, “Shit, I didn’t— I forgot— you definitely need water, and food— are you hungry? You must be starving by now.”

His concern warms your heart, but you shake your head. “Oh, it’s okay, I can just… I’ll just grab something on the way home.” He grabs your chin, like the week prior; your eyes widen as your heart pounds, pulse beating straight down between your legs from the quick change in demeanor.

“Angel, I meant it when I said I take care of my people,” He reminds you softly. Your breath hitches as you watch his stare flit down to your lips, only for a moment. “I don’t mean to make decisions for you, but I don’t feel comfortable with the idea of you driving tonight. Maybe even for a few days, depending on how long recovery takes.”

“But I…” He’s right. You know he’s right, yet you stay in denial. “I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

“You’re always welcome here, whenever you want, or need.” He releases your face and adds, “I’d offer to drive you home, and will if you truly so wish, but you probably should not be alone right now.”

You nod, knowing there’s no use in arguing that.

“Could you take me back so I can grab some stuff at least? I don’t have anything to wear, especially work clothes—“

“Oh, you’re not working, either. That I’m not budging on.”

“What? Why not?”

“Rest for the living is more important than tending to the dead,” Steve argues as he crosses his arms.

“I left you for a week already—“

“And while you help keep this place running smoothly, I can handle another week on my own. I promise.” 

“Okay, but who’s doing pickups then if Eddie’s away?”

“Me, who else?” You frown comically, pulling a breathy laugh from his lungs. “Angel, it’s fine. I can handle it. If there’s anything you still need from home I can retrieve it, but otherwise, you’re recovering.”

Reluctantly, you nod. “Alright, fine. I’ll make a list.” He grins, rolling out of bed to grab a pen and some paper for you from a nearby desk. 

You don’t need much, just a few necessities; scribbling them down quickly, you tear the paper off the notepad, handing it over.

“Good girl,” Steve murmurs, leaning down to kiss your forehead. He feels you shiver under his lips, smirking before he parts ways.

⋆.˚───── 🩸 ─────˚.⋆

Steve has to have a heightened sense of sound, or something; the moment your feet hit the floor, swung over the edge of his bed, he throws the door open, frantically rushing into the room.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

He stares at you wide eyed, while you haven’t even fully stood up yet.

You glance down at your feet, then to him, quirking a brow; you’re part annoyed for the way he’s hovering, and part grateful that he cares this much. “… Trying to walk?”

“You’re too weak for that right now,” he strides over to you, hands out to hold you in place by your shoulders. “You need more rest.”

“Okay, well I need to shower, it’s been days, and I feel gross, so-“ Steve picks you up in a flash, carrying you bridal style. “- hey, hey! Put me down!”

Damn him and this super strength bullshit vampires have.

“And risk you slipping in the shower?” He carries you out of the room effortlessly, down the hall with premeditated, cautious steps. “I don’t think so, angel.”

The soft glance he gives nearly dissolves the argument. You’re too drained to pretend you dislike the way he dotes on you; tucking your head into the ditch of his shoulder, your arms hook around his neck.

Okay, yeah, maybe it’s not so annoying to be cared for.

“So, what, I have to sit in the shower?”

“No,” he states calmly. “I have a bathtub.”

“Oh, okay, so I’ll drown instead.”

“No, you won’t, because I’m staying with you.” Steve reaches the bathroom, setting you down slowly. 

You stumble as your feet hit the tiled floor— over his words, not weakness. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I won’t look, but you’re in no condition to be in a full tub all alone.”

Even the damn bathroom is elegant, with a massive, porcelain clawfoot tub as its centerpiece; candles are scattered throughout the room, offering a serene glow, yet you feel anything but relaxed.

Steve made it clear he’d only stay for your safety, but your mind still indulges in your desires. 

Heat washes through you at the thought of sharing a bath together; your back against his chest, cool skin contrasting yours, hot to the touch… his fangs grazing your neck as he kisses you from behind, large hands exploring every inch and curve of your figure… him toying with you… while deep inside you, delicately feeding from your blood—

“Hey, where’s your mind off to now?” Steve’s gentle voice whisks you away from any impending filthy thoughts. He rests the back of his hand against your forehead, frowning. “Are you feeling ill? You’re pretty warm.”

Christ, I need to stop thinking like a goddamn romance novel.

Pushing his hand away, you refuse to look him in the eye. “M’fine, I’ll be quick, promise.”

Offering a glance of disbelief, he sighs with a nod. Still only in your underwear and his sweater, you pull the edges of the cardigan to wind around your body, shivering as he turns the faucet on. Your gaze falls upon him, studying his features, muscles in his arms flexing effortlessly with each turn of the handles. Something crossed between a dull ache and arousal ripple throughout your body.

You yearn to be closer with him, closer to him; the desire to feel not only passion and intimacy with him burns, but the desire to intertwine your lives where you take care of one another all the time… that burns brighter.

Placing fluffy, cloud-like towels next to the bathtub, Steve turns to you, inspecting your expression.

“How about I sit right outside the door, give you some privacy?” He asks, concern surfacing as he notices you shiver. “Or I can stay in here, but I mean it, I won’t look. It’ll only be precautionary—“

“N- no, I can… I’m okay alone, I promise.” Your fingers twitch as you ball them up tighter, sweater still snug within your grasp. 

“The second you need something, though, just ask, alright?” He reaches out to your hands, resting his palms over them, thumbs gently caressing along your knuckles. “Need you to relax, angel.”

Shakily, you exhale, loosening your grip while daring to look Steve in the eye.

“Take all the time you need, and use whatever you want.” 

You squeak out a quick “thank you” before he slips out the door, leaving it ajar just enough for a sheet of paper to fit through.

Eager for the tub’s warmth and to wash off two days worth of bed rest, you climb in, cautiously, of course. Involuntarily, a whimper escapes your lips the further you sink down into the sudsy water. The comfortable temperature should ease you to relax, but you can’t. 

Your muscles only continue to tense up, and a groan rumbles through your chest, not quick enough to stop it.

The door creaks open an inch, but Steve still remains outside, respecting your privacy. 

“Are you alright?”

“Uh-huh,” you reply, but it comes out full of uncertainty, not helping your case. 

“Are you sure?”

“Mhm, y- yep!” You grab a bar of soap and a washcloth, hoping to scrub away your worries, and really, at first, it does start to relax you; there’s nothing like a relaxing, hot bath after tiring events, and you definitely earned the peace.

That quickly melts into unsolicited pleasure as the soapy cloth brushes against your chest. Your eyes jolt open as you gasp, sensitivity higher than you’ve ever experienced.

“What the fuck—“ you whisper, biting down on your bottom lip to stifle a moan. Heat burns white-hot throughout your body, pulsating from your core and rippling outward.

Imagery laced with lust float through your mind; you, sitting on Steve’s lap, a whining, nearly incoherent and dazed mess, grinding down on him. Steve, warning you of consequences, advising against giving into what you craved most.

You, begging, pleading, for more, while your blood drips from his lips. Lamenting to him of how it hurts, how something within you burns, and you need him—

Why does this feel so real? Why does it feel like you’ve been here before?

Has this already happened?

A breathy sigh slips from your lips as you realize your other hand is already between your legs, circling your aching clit. Your hips flex up in the water, cloth long forgotten among the bubbles as your other hand toys with your breasts. 

That sigh molds into a moan, one you can’t hold back, lost in sinful thoughts of Steve touching you. That moan, also forms into his name, and you don’t realize it until he’s calling out in a panic.

“What’s going on?”

You gasp as your climax, once just out of reach, now withers away; as you pull your hands off your figure, embarrassment shadows over every other feeling that you were just sinking in moments ago.

“Angel?”

Trying to control your panting, you force yourself to respond, albeit while your voice trembles. “I- I’m okay!”

“You sound far from okay,” he counters, inching the door open a little, as a warning. “I’m coming in.”

“Steve, I’m fine, really!”

He refuses to take your word, and really, you don’t blame him; you probably sounded like a wounded animal on the other side of that door. 

Sinking further into the water, gathering up the suds around you as a cover, you narrow your stare at him. There’s concern woven within his features, but … something you can’t quite pinpoint either.

God, you hope you weren’t too obvious.

Steve focuses on your lips, licking his own. He drops down to his knees next to the tub, making you extra aware you’re completely nude, only covered by the tub wall and bubbles; better than no barrier at all, you suppose.

“Steve, what are you—“

“Angel, hold still for me.”

It’s the ‘for me’ that nearly kills you inside, eats you alive from the inside out with adoration for this man.

Steve gently holds your chin in one hand, while licking his thumb in the other, gingerly swiping it along your bottom lip. The sting left behind from biting your lip— something you completely forgot about— ebbs away, twitching as you fight the urge to take his thumb into your mouth and suck softly.

Still holding you in place, he brings his other hand to his own lips, lapping away at the blood left behind on his thumb. A small, satisfied hum slips past his lips. You gawk as his tongue flits out, erasing any trace of crimson left behind. When his gaze finds your own, you notice a flash of deep red in his irises.

“There,” his hand on your chin moves to cup your cheek, thumb caressing over your cheekbone. “All better.”

⋆.˚───── 🩸 ─────˚.⋆

You somehow manage to convince Steve you can get out of the tub without assistance, and you’re grateful he gives you that moment alone, because you need a minute to yourself— what the fuck just happened?

With your clothes in the wash, and still yet to pick up your belongings from your place, Steve offers a cozy, fluffy robe for you to rest in. Except, there’s not much rest happening now, no thanks to that ruined orgasm and the wired, pent up energy you’re running off of.

Your desires eventually simmer enough to ignore them, enjoying a more wholesome hope you’ve had with Steve quite some time. It feels like the night you two officially declared friendship, where he began to open up.

Sitting cross-legged on Steve’s bed, you lean over to the water and snacks he grabbed for you, resting on the nightstand. He fixates on you as you speak, “I had a really weird dream, right before I woke up.” You pick at some grapes, throwing one in the air to try and catch it in your mouth; it bounces off your cheek instead, back into your hands.

“Never getting you grapes again, Steve, teases; laying on his side, leaning onto his arm while resting his head in his palm, he watches you with extra caution and concern. “That’s just a choking hazard waiting to happen.”

“I didn’t think vampires were all about safety first.”

“Maybe just this one. You humans are cute, but stress me the hell out.” A smile ghosts along his lips.

“May I remind you,” your eyes narrow towards him, “that you were human once too.”

“And never once a safety hazard like yourself.” He quips with a shrug, smirking as you roll your eyes.  “Go on, what was your dream about?”

“Okay…” You huff, brushing off your nerves; you’re worried you’ll sound absolutely nuts. 

Then again, not much more gets weirder than finding out your boss… friend… crush, is a vampire.

 “It’s gonna sound bonkers, but… Robin appeared. I- I talked to her— well, she talked to me, first.”

Steve coughs, wide-eyed and taken aback. “What?”

“I know! I know, it sounds silly. I don’t know her aside from what you’ve told me, and the portrait she’s in, but she— I don’t know.”

He sits up, attention invested in your every word. “No, please, tell me what happened.”

“She mostly just reassured me everything would be okay… with you, and me… and us.” You go into more detail about the dream, ending with, “She wanted me to pass a message along, too.”

Steve’s gaze widens in anticipation. “What was it?”

“That she’ll miss you dearly, and she’s eternally grateful for your love and care while she was alive. Her words, not mine.” The last part takes a second to pop into your mind. “Oh, and she… she wanted you to know she ‘made it home safely’.”

Struck by something deep within him, he sits up and stares at you, dumbfounded. “Word for word?”

Your brows crinkle together, “Uh… yeah? I’m actually kinda shocked I remember this dream fully, they usually fade away the moment I begin talking about them— hey… are you okay?” 

Steve runs a hand down his face, sighing and shaking his head in disbelief. Patiently, silently, you wait for an explanation.

“I always thought she was joking.” He gives a short huff of a laugh, but it isn’t melancholic. “When she was of sound mind, she’d tell me “I’ll let you know when I get home safe,” after leaving this world… always had this grin when she’d remind me, too.”

“She also said—“ You pause; maybe you should keep the rest of the dream to yourself. It’s too late, Steve’s already hanging on your unfinished thought. Shaking your head and hands, your eyes squeeze shut, feeling foolish. “It’s silly, I shouldn’t— I need to shut up.”

“Tell me,” He demands softly, hand slipping into yours. “Please?”

“Robin mentioned how… how nice it was to see you happy again, since we met. But she was still alive when we met, so how would she know?”

The smile that appears looks like one that pairs with tear-filled eyes, but he’s holding back. You wonder if that has anything to do with the way he cried in front of you the first time, with tears of blood. Maybe he’s worried he’ll scare you.

“When I’d visit her the last month or so, I might’ve brought you up a few times. The doctors encouraged talking to her, even in a coma, rather than weep by her bedside.”

“What, probably telling her how annoyed you were when I’d call you Mr. Harrington in the beginning, huh?”

“Alright, once, but aside from that—“ Steve chuckles, shaking his head. “I was talking about how good things had become since you came around.”

You’re surprised, and flattered, honestly; he saw you as someone worth telling his best friend about.

“I wish you could’ve met her, really met her. You two would’ve gotten along easily,” he grins fondly. “The kids, too. They could be troublemakers, but I think that’s part of being a kid.”

You get cozy, resting on your side, close to Steve, but nowhere near allowing your body to touch his, aside from your hands still clasped together. Snuggling into the pillow, you ask softly, “Were you like that as a kid, too?”

Steve’s mouth hangs open, struggling to find the right answer. “I… I don’t remember much of my childhood.”

Your heart aches, but you try approaching curiosity with sensitivity. “Is that, um… does that happen normally? Vampires forgetting parts of life like that?”

“Not sure, honestly.” He shrugs, “I have photographs as a kid, only a few, but they’re all blurry. Asking a child to sit for minutes long exposures is asking a lot.” He chuckles, but it’s tinged with a certain type of sorrow. “I have nothing else from that time, and I’m not sure if mementos would jog my memory enough, either.”

“I’m sorry, Steve.” You inch closer, breaking down the barrier of self-doubt, little by little. 

“It’s alright.” He gives a gentle, lopsided smile. “I’m lucky enough to have watched those kids grow up, support them and cheer them on. That kind of fills the void left behind where I can’t remember my own childhood.”

“Will you tell me more about them? Someday, when you’re ready?”

He nods, softly agreeing, “Yes, of course. Might take me some time, the loss still feels fresh… even if it’s been decades. I’m sure that sounds ridiculous.”

“No, not at all. Grief is so finicky and works on its own time, not ours.” A stray strand of hair falls in front of his face; you reach out to gently brush it aside, fingertips lingering as they trail down the side of his face. “Take all the time you need, just know I’m ready to listen when you’re ready to open up.”

“There’s not enough of this kind of empathy when it comes to grief, certainly not in our field,” he observes. “It comes to you naturally, though.”

“So… does that mean I still have my job?” You offer a grimace-like smile, earning Steve’s gentle laugh, fangs and all.

You’re a sucker for that sight alone.

“Of course, as long as you want to come back.”

“Okay… b- but won’t it be a conflict of interest?” You inwardly curse at yourself for bringing professionalism back into this dynamic. “Power imbalance, and all of that?”

“Well, it could be… but I’ll let you decide for us, and for yourself.”  His hand finds yours, still cradling his face, resting on top. He isn’t so cold anymore. Or maybe you’re growing used to it each time you touch. “You’re going back to school full time once the summer ends, anyway… and whatever you choose in the meantime, I support. No more pathetic, heartbroken voicemails, I promise.”

“Why don’t you get a say in any of this? It’s unfair to you if only I decide how this works out.”

“Because your time on this earth is limited, angel.” He turns his head, lightly kissing the heel of your palm. “You deserve to decide how you spend that time, not the guy who is stuck here forever.”

The one time you finally find someone interested enough in you that they respect your space, your choices, your autonomy, you’re reminded it’s not all perfect. 

There’s always a catch.

“If this is what you want, and you have to want this on your own terms, I refuse to force you— we take things a day at a time.” He presses a kiss to your palm again, working slowly down to the pulse point in your wrist. Your veins throb, along with your still-sensitive core. “Understand?”

Subconsciously, you bite your lip as you nod, hissing as your tooth hits the spot of your now healed wound. It’s still sore, despite the skin’s lack of breakage. 

“Don’t hurt your lip again, angel. I’d be tempted to kiss it better.”

“No one said you can’t,” you pout, coaxing his smile to stay put.

“It never came up, and I’d need your consent, anyway.”

“Wait. So… we never kissed when you fed from me?”

Steve’s bewildered. “No, not at all. You can’t remember what happened?” He asks, blushing a bit— so, vampires do blush— clearing his throat, “… Do you want to know?”

“Well, yeah, ‘cause I only remember when you first bit me, and how it began to feel good… then I woke up on the floor in here—“

“Fell out of bed onto the floor, you mean—“

“Oh, whatever.” You sit back up, playfully rolling your eyes; you reach out to the snack tray, popping another grape into your mouth. This time, you manage to catch it. “Just tell me what happened.”

Taking a deep breath, Steve exhales roughly, head tilting up toward the ceiling. You watch the blush splotch down his neck, spilling under the collar of his shirt— seriously, what’s the science behind vampires blushing?— “You became a bit… excited.”

“Excited?” A chuckle slips out. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Um, well, you see,” He looks down, but not at you, scrunching his eyes shut as he nervously begins to ramble. “It’s, uh, not uncommon for humans to become… aroused, while being fed from. It’s why I was worried to feed off of you in the first place, I didn’t— you don’t—“

“Oh.” 

“I let you decide everything, and you told me it hurt, so I- I just wanted you to feel better, I told you to take what you need, so you, you know, you just…” He gestures to your hips, voice cracking. “You asked me to continue feeding, but the pain became too much, and you fainted— thankfully on me, not the floor, or I’d never forgive myself. Or if you bashed your head off the desk, that could’ve been horrible, and I— the whole thing—“

“Steve—“

“You were so good to me, caring for me like th- that. So good for me, I just wanted to help you. Wanted you to feel good.”

‘Good for me.’

Forget everything else he just said, all that matters are those three words, how electrifying they are to hear from a stunning creature like himself.

I’m so fucked.

Clearing your throat, you dare to ask, “… Did I?”

“Did you… what?”

“F- feel good?”

He nods cautiously, the lewd scene of you, grinding onto his lap in a lust-driven daze, replaying in his mind. You, desperately searching for some kind of respite after offering yourself to him. How you swiped the blood from your neck onto a finger, slipping it between his lips, studying every movement he made. It’s only up to the imagination to question what could’ve happened if you were able to continue.

“Steve?” You wave your hand in front of his face. 

“Hm?” Gaze flitting down to your lips, he licks his own. “Uh… yes. I’d say so.”

You wait expectantly, laughing, “You’re not gonna elaborate?”

“Angel, I’m— I would rather not make you feel uncomfortable.” He nervously chuckles, stare darting away. “Maybe it’s best you don’t remember what happened.”

“Clearly, I wasn’t uncomfortable, and still am not, since I’m laying half-naked in your bed.” You gesture to the robe he offered you, while washing the clothes you had in the meantime. 

“Well, a certain stubborn human refuses to rest, and won’t allow me to retrieve their belongings.”

“I never said you can’t go!” You roll your eyes. “I’m fine alone, seriously.”

He ignores you, narrowing his stare playfully. “Probably would’ve drowned in the tub, or choked on a damn grape by now.”

“Okay, okay, I promise I won’t be a stubborn, functioning human being while you’re gone!” You sit up with a smirk, “As long as you tell me what the hell happened when you were feeding.”

“Oh, we’re bargaining now?”

“Maybe. You could always just… show me what happened.”

You loosen your robe, allowing it to slink off of your shoulders; it’s enough to expose the top of your chest, but not enough to expose everything quite yet. 

Mesmerized by the sight before him, Steve’s jaw drops, hands drawn to your figure like a moth to a flame. He leads you to lay back against the pillows in his strong grasp. 

You gasp; this is it. Finally.

However, you don’t expect him to pull the duvet back over you. Or pull your robe back over your shoulders.

“What the—“

“You’re right, I could show you, and I’d love to,” he grins like the smug bastard he is. “But I meant it when I said you need rest.”

You pout dramatically, earning a genuine laugh from Steve, fangs gleaming in the candlelight, just like the night he confided in you of his past.

“Not even a kiss?”

He hums, offering performative contemplation before leaning down, hand winding behind your head to cradle it before pressing his lips against your forehead.

“The sooner you recover…” Steve tilts down to rest his forehead against yours, breathing deeply. Eyes fluttering shut, your breath hitches. His nose brushes against yours, the chill of his skin contrasting the heat of yours. So close… he’s so close— “The sooner you’ll get more than just a kiss.”

And just like that, he’s detached from you, leaving you utterly flustered.

With a disgruntled groan, your eyes open and roll, diving under the duvet as you grumble grievances to yourself. “Fine. Get outta here so I can rest or recover, or whatever.”

The house was cast in a dim light, the silence was almost deafening save for when the floorboards creaked under your weight as you moved slowly down the hallway.

You were listening out for Noah, you’d left out a ghostface mask on the living room table for when he came home.

You’d heard him chuckle under his breath before it went quiet. The game had begun.

You couldn’t stop the small smile from forming as you crept further along, you knew he wouldn’t be far away, for a man his size he could be scarily quiet on his feet but that just made the chase even better.

You were debating on doubling back on yourself when you heard the same floorboard behind you groan and felt his presence towering behind you before you heard his voice whispering in your ear.

“Run”

You gasped as you felt the heat of his breath and you broke out into a run but of course it didn’t take Noah more than a couple long strides before you felt his arms lock around your waist, lifting you off the ground while you giggled as he carried you into your bedroom before throwing you down onto the bed and watching your body bounce on the mattress.

“I thought you’d put up more of a fight than that, anyone would think you wanted to be caught”

You stared up at the ghostface mask that was lit up by the bedside lamp, you felt your core throb with the anticipation of what was to come.

Noah had already taken his shirt off and was left only wearing his jeans as he stalked closer so he could lean down over you.

“Enjoying the view baby? Let’s see how much”

Noah’s fingers hooked into your underwear and pulled them down your legs and chucked them behind him as he opened your thighs.

“There’s a surprise, my little slut is already dripping and I haven’t even touched you yet”

He cocked his head to the side as he dragged a finger slowly over your folds.

“Does the thought of being in danger turn you? Or is it just the mask?”

Your breathing started to quicken as you cleared your throat to respond.

“B..both”

Noah let out a low distorted chuckle from behind the mask, humming as his fingers trailed further down, teasing your entrance more.

“Get on your knees”

You obeyed without hesitation, heart racing in your chest as you shifted on the bed, hands steadying yourself on the edge as you turned and knelt before him. He stood tall, mask tilted downward, watching your every move like a predator admiring his prey as he unzipped his jeans slowly.

“If you’re gonna act like a little slut, I want you to show me how much you love being used like one”

His cock sprang free, thick and already hard, the tip flushed and leaking. He fisted the base lazily as he stepped closer, letting it brush against your lips.

“Open”

The moment you did he pushed inside, letting out a shaky groan. His hand moved to cup the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair. He didn’t thrust, just held you there, letting your tongue swirl around the head of his cock, teasing him the way he always teased you.

“Eyes up”

You looked up, straight into the Ghostface mask. That blank stare looking back at you, his eyes hardly visible at all through the plastic.

He groaned, letting his hips roll forward.

“Fuck…look at you, you look so pretty with your mouth full”

He started to move, letting himself sink further each time.

“This what you wanted? To gag on my cock while I watch you through this mask?”

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as you moved your head faster and reached your hand up to grip him and move in time with your mouth, feeling yourself clenching as you listened to his low growls.

You sucked on him harder, moaning around him as you felt him twitching.

“Fuck…that’s enough”

He gripped your hair, slowly pulling you off his cock with a wet pop, your lips swollen and a line of spit still connecting you to him.

“Bet that sweet little pussy’s aching now huh?”

You nodded breathlessly, thighs clenching on nothing, your fingers twitched against your lap but you knew better than to touch without permission.

“You’ve been such a good girl, about time I give you a reward eh?”

Before you could respond, Noah had moved you onto your back, bringing you to the edge while pushing his jeans all the way down.

You felt him tease your slick folds before pushing in with a sharp thrust causing a broken moan to be pulled from your chest.

He didn’t give you a moment to adjust. His hips slammed forward again, burying himself to the hilt, a strangled cry leaving your lips as your back arched off the mattress. The stretch burned in the most delicious way and you could practically see the smirk behind the mask as he pulled back and slammed into you again, harder this time.

Your hands held onto him, trying to anchor yourself as Noah’s pace turned brutal. His hand came up, fingers wrapping tightly around your throat, squeezing just enough to make your vision hazy around the edges.

“Look at you…just a toy for me to fuck”

Your pussy clenched around him involuntarily and he growled at the sensation.

“That’s it. You like being fucked by a killer baby?”

You couldn’t answer, you could only moan under him as you tried to keep your eyes open to stare up as he leaned closer, the cold plastic of the ghostface mask brushing against your cheek.

“Noah…ohhh…”

His free hand slid between your bodies, fingers finding your clit and circling it with unforgiving pressure. You cried out, legs trembling around his hips, heat curling low in your belly like a coil was about to snap.

“Don’t you dare cum yet”

You whimpered, tears starting to spill from the corners of your eyes as you tried to hold back at his command.

Noah pulled out suddenly, flipping you over like you weighed nothing, dragging your hips up and back until you were on your knees with your cheek pressed to the mattress. His cock still hard and leaking as he pushed back in from behind, the new angle stole your breath away.

Every sound in the room was carnal. Skin slapping, bedsprings creaking, his ragged breathing behind the mask, your broken cries.

You felt his fingers digging into your hips hard enough to leave bruises and then his hand came down sharply across your ass causing it to sting instantly. You moaned shamelessly, your body vibrating with tension.

He reached around, fingers working your clit again, thrusts growing more erratic.

“Cum for me. Let me hear how good you are for me”

And when you did, when that orgasm tore through you with a scream, clenching around him like an iron vice, he followed with a guttural growl, slamming in deep as he spilled inside you, panting against the back of your neck.

You both collapsed forward, bodies slick with sweat, the only sound in the room was your mingled breathing as you came back down from the high.

Noah pulled out slowly causing you both to groan and he gently turned you over as he pulled the mask off, his cheeks were flushed pink as he looked down at you with a smirk.

The familiar, comforting chaos of Eddie’s trailer usually wraps around you like a well-worn battle jacket, the surefire cure for any bad mood. Tonight, however, its magic has failed utterly. The band posters seem like faded ghosts, and the usual organised clutter of his D&D campaign notes just looks like a mess.

Curled into your designated corner of the couch—the one with the perfect view of the TV and the dip in the cushion that feels like it has been moulded just for you—you are just going through the motions. On screen, Bruce Campbell is battling the undead, but the guttural sounds of The Evil Dead are nothing but white noise. 

A sudden click, and then a silence so thick and heavy you can feel it pressing against your eardrums. The screen freezes on a grotesque, tree-possessed face.

“Okay, spill.”

Eddie’s voice cuts through the stillness, low and unwavering. The couch cushions shift as he turns his whole body toward you, his focus a physical weight you can feel even without looking. The warmth of his knee brushes against your leg, and he nudges your sock-clad foot with his own.

“You’ve been sighing for the last forty-five minutes, and I’m pretty sure you just ate a piece of unpopped kernel without flinching. What’s got you all… grumpy-pants?”

You wave a dismissive hand, a performance of nonchalance you are galaxies away from feeling. “It’s nothing. Just… a long day. Don’t worry about it.” The words sound hollow and brittle even to your own ears, shattering in the small space between you.

Eddie’s eyes narrow into dark, knowing slits, seeing straight through the flimsy facade. The silver rings on his fingers glint like tiny blades in the low light as he folds his arms over his chest, the Hellfire Club shirt stretching tight across his shoulders. “Nuh-uh. I don’t think so. I am a certified expert in your ‘nothings,’ and your ‘nothings’ have tells.” His voice drops, losing its theatrical edge and becoming something lower, more intimate. “You get a little crease right here.”

He leans forward, and the world shrinks to the space of the worn couch. The unique scent of him—worn leather, faint weed, and the essential, warm spice that is just Eddie—floods your senses, a familiar aroma that now feels dangerously intoxicating. His calloused finger, so often flying over guitar frets or fidgeting with a twenty-sided die, is surprisingly gentle as he bridges the final inch. He taps once, softly, on the spot between your eyebrows, a touch that somehow smooths away a tension you hadn't even realised you were holding.

The contact, brief as it is, is a lightning strike. A familiar, pleasant jolt arcs straight to you—a feeling you’ve been carefully collecting and secreting away in a locked corner of your heart, a feeling that was starting to feel less like a secret and more like a truth you could no longer ignore.

He doesn’t pull back. His face remains dangerously close, his dark eyes holding yours, seeing everything. “So, try again,” he murmurs, the words a soft vibration in the air between you. His knee presses more firmly against your leg, a solid, warm line of contact that feels less like an accident and more like an anchor, tethering you to this moment, to him.

The joke is soft, a peace offering wrapped in a little levity, but his eyes are dead serious. They hold yours, dark and unwavering, refusing to let you hide.

A genuine, if weary, laugh escapes you. It’s a small sound, but it feels monumental, cracking the shell of your mood and loosening the tight, anxious knot in your chest just enough to let you breathe. “It’s… it’s stupid, I promise.”

“Hey.” The single syllable is a gentle command. He shifts imperceptibly closer, the world narrowing to the space on the couch between you. “If it’s bothering you, it’s not stupid to me,” he counters, his voice softening into that rare, sincere tone he usually keeps locked away under layers of theatrical flair and metalhead bravado.

It is the tone that undoes you.

It’s the voice he uses when you’re the only one in the room, the one that doesn’t need an audience. It strips away all the noise, all the defences you’ve so carefully built, and leaves just… Eddie. Raw and present. The effect is immediate and devastating, a blowtorch to the icy butter of your resolve. You feel your carefully constructed composure not just crack, but begin to melt, pooling somewhere in the pit of your stomach, leaving you exposed and terrifyingly seen.

Fortified by his unwavering sincerity, you take a deep, steadying breath, staring intently at the half-empty popcorn bowl as if the unpopped kernels hold the secrets to the universe. “Fine,” you mumble, the word barely audible over the persistent hum of the trailer’s fridge. You squeeze your eyes shut for a second. “It’s… my boobs. They’re really sore today, okay, and it’s just… it’s been a miserable, distracting kind of day.” You chance a glance at him, your face heating with a flush that feels like it could single-handedly power the entire grid of Hawkins.

The confusion that blooms on Eddie’s face is so pure, so comical, it could be studied in a lab. His head cocks to the side like a confused puppy who just heard a dissonant chord. You can practically see the gears turning behind his dark eyes—gears that are clearly grinding through a manual he’s never even seen the cover of, let alone read.

“Sore?” he repeats, the word tentative, as if testing it for structural integrity. His hands come up, fingers splaying awkwardly in the space between you. “Like… a muscle ache? Did you… I don’t know, try to bench press Gareth? Run into a door? A particularly aggressive shelf at the library?” He gestures vaguely with a ring-clad hand, trying to physically conjure a scenario that would make sense in his very specific worldview.

He is so genuinely, earnestly trying to problem-solve, his brow furrowed in a concentration usually reserved for mapping out a lich’s lair. The sheer, adorable absurdity of it all crashes over you in a wave. The embarrassment doesn't vanish, but it is suddenly dwarfed, utterly annihilated, by a surge of such profound affection for this ridiculous, wonderful man that it steals the air from your lungs. The laugh that bubbles out of you isn't weary or guarded this time; it's pure, unadulterated joy.

“No, it’s not that kind of sore. It’s just… a thing that happens. Sometimes. Hormones and… stuff.” You make a vague, fluttering gesture with your hand, as if trying to shoo the entire, mortifying topic of female anatomy out of the air. You can feel the heat of your blush creeping down your neck, a telltale warmth that betrays your feigned casualness.

“Oh.”

The simple syllable hangs in the air, a single, clueless note of pure, unadulterated male bafflement. You watch the journey play out on his face in real time: the slight squint of confusion, the subtle parting of his lips, and then—the moment. You see the penny drop, not with a gentle click, but with the force of a slot machine jackpot. His eyes widen just a fraction, his brows launching towards his hairline.

“Oh.”

Realization dawns, and is instantly chased away by a rapid-fire ramble, a classic Eddie Munson defense mechanism against any and all social awkwardness. It’s like watching a verbal pinball machine light up, all bells, whistles, and frantic, chaotic motion.

“Right, right, okay, biology. The, uh. The curse, and all that. The crimson tide. Aunt Flo’s… unwelcome pilgrimage.” He is excavating a deeper hole with every cringeworthy synonym, his ring-clad hands conducting this symphony of his own mounting panic. “Man, that’s a raw deal. The rawest. Just walking around, minding your own business, and bam, unscheduled internal sabotage. It’s like your own body’s betraying you, you know? A real-life body horror flick happening right in your… uh… central… torso-region. What’s the evolutionary advantage? Seems counter-productive if you ask me, which nobody does, but I’m giving my unsolicited opinion anyway! You’d think after all these millennia there’d be a patch, or an update, or something—wait!”

He snaps his fingers, a sharp, metallic click from the rings. A look of eureka-level inspiration lights up his face, though the idea is clearly hurtling down a dangerous and entirely unpaved track.

“A massage! That’s what you do for sore muscles, right?” he declares, a flash of triumphant genius in his eyes, as if he’s just solved a complex arcane riddle. “Loosens the tension, promotes blood flow—it’s basic anatomy! So, I could just… you know…”

He trails off, his verbal train of thought having clearly left the station without its conductor. The triumphant gleam in his eyes flickers, replaced by a dawning, wide-eyed horror at the destination his mouth has just hurtled towards.

 To your utter shock and perverse fascination, his hands come up, and he mimes a vague, two-handed kneading motion in the air, hovering perilously in the space between you.

It’s not a subtle gesture. It’s blatant. It’s pictographic. It is, without a doubt, the single most ridiculous and terrifying mime of breast-massage you have ever witnessed.

The world grinds to a halt. The only sounds in the trailer are the frantic, sympathetic hum of the refrigerator and the deafening, kettledrum thump of your own heart against your ribs. A fresh, scorching wave of heat floods your face, so intense you’re surprised the cheap paneling on the walls doesn’t start to smoke. You are frozen, caught between the primal urge to shriek with laughter and to simply vanish from the face of the earth.

His eyes go wide with sheer, unadulterated horror. A deep, crimson flush explodes from the collar of his Hellfire t-shirt, racing up his neck and painting his cheeks and the tips of his ears in a vivid, mortified scarlet. It is a blush to rival all of your own, a spectacular, full-body cringe.

“No! No, no, no, that’s not—I didn’t mean—” The words tumble out, tripping over each other in their desperate haste to escape. He waves his hands frantically in a warding gesture, as if trying to erase the very suggestion from the air between you. “I was thinking medically! Like a physical therapist! A very, very professional and detached physical therapist who is absolutely, one-hundred percent not me! A guy with a clipboard and a bad mustache and zero thoughts in his head besides proper skeletal alignment! Forget I said anything. I’m an idiot. A cretin. A troglodyte who just crawled out of a cave and has never seen a woman before.” He buries his face in his hands with a groan that seems to vibrate through the very couch cushions. “Just… end me now. Let the Demogorgon take me. It’s what I deserve.”

As your coughing fit subsides, leaving you breathless and wiping tears from the corners of your eyes, a dangerous, thrilling thought takes root, bold and undeniable amidst the wreckage of his composure.

He is offering.

And as insane, as utterly ridiculous as it is… you aren’t opposed. In fact, the idea, now stripped of its accidental comedy and laid bare, sends a wave of pure, undiluted heat through you that has nothing to do with embarrassment. It is a slow, liquid pull low in your belly, a sudden, vivid awareness of every point where his body is close to yours on the couch—the press of his knee against your leg, the warmth radiating from his thigh, the scent of him that now smells less like comfort and more like temptation.

The space between you feels charged, electric, as if he’s just thrown a live wire into the scant few inches separating you instead of a terrible, wonderful suggestion. The air is thick with everything that has just gone unsaid, and the only thing louder than his groan of despair is the sudden, frantic hammering of your own heart.

“Eddie.”

Your voice is a little hoarse, scraped raw from laughter and the sudden, breathless tension coiling in the space between you.

He peeks through the fortress of his fingers, a single, dark eye regarding you with a mixture of abject terror and a fragile, desperate hope. “Yeah?”

You bite your lip, the sharp little sting grounding you as your own heart hammers a frantic, wild rhythm against your ribs, a drum solo begging to be let out of its cage. The words feel dangerous on your tongue, a secret whispered in a sacred space. “I mean… if you’re serious… it might… help.” You hold his gaze, refusing to let him, or yourself, hide from the precipice you're both teetering on. “It’s worth a try, right?”

Now it is his turn to choke on nothing. On air. On the sheer, terrifying, thrilling implication of your words. He makes a sound that is half-gasp, half-whimper, a noise a drowning man might make the second before he stops fighting the current and lets it pull him under.

The flush, which you thought had reached its peak, deepens to a spectacular, concerning shade of purple-red, a wildfire of mortification and something else, something hotter, creeping all the way to the burning tips of his ears. The fortress of his hands falls away, dropping to his sides as if they've gone numb.

The careful, clinical image he’d constructed—the physical therapist with the clipboard and the bad mustache—shatters into a thousand useless pieces. In its place, a new one blooms, vivid and unbidden, stealing the air from his lungs: the imagined, devastating warmth of you filling his palms, the impossible softness of your skin under the rough calluses of his fingers. The soft, breathy sigh you might make if the pain finally, miraculously, eases under his touch. It’s a thought so intimate, so real, it is now seared onto the back of his eyelids, a brand. It is all he can see, and it is entirely, devastatingly, perfectly inappropriate. And he cannot, for the life of him, look away.

He swallows hard, his Adam's apple performing a frantic, painful-looking bob. The silence that follows is not empty; it is taut as a guitar string tuned a half-step too tight, vibrating with a frequency that sings directly to your blood.

“Yeah,” he finally croaks. His voice is stripped down, an octave lower and rough with a gravelly texture you’ve never heard directed at you before—a sound that was all Eddie, but a new, dangerous frequency of him. It was a voice for dark rooms and whispered secrets. “Yeah, okay.” He slowly, deliberately, lowers his hands from his face, revealing a look of raw, unguarded shock that was quickly being burned away by the heat of a dawning, terrifying understanding. “If… if you’re sure.”

The air in the trailer is no longer the comfortable, familiar atmosphere of your shared sanctuary. It has been transformed. It is thick, syrupy with anticipation, electric with the current of every single unspoken word, every stolen glance, every casual touch that has ever passed between you. It is the quiet at the eye of the hurricane, and you are both standing right in the path of the oncoming wall of the storm. The space between you on the couch feels like the only real space left in the world, a charged vacuum begging to be crossed.

“Ew, you're so gross, Eddie. No wonder you’re failing, I bet all you can think about is porn!”

He shrugged and closed the magazine, folding it and putting it on the sofa beside him, “Maybe that’s true”, he grinned and snuffed out his cigarette.

Curiosity got the better of you. “Do you always look for porn stars who look like your sister?” 

You and Eddie have always had a weird relationship. Growing up, he was your first kiss, he'd always let you practice on him. Who better than your brother to learn from?

He snorted and shook his head, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Well, yeah, that’s why you asked.

A faint smirk grew on Eddie's lips “If you help me with my studying, I'll give you an honest answer,” he signed a cross down his chest and kissed his finger “Swear it” he scooted over eagerly, making room for you, patting the cushion, motioning you over. 

You already knew the answer.

You palmed your face in annoyance. I mean, it's not like you had anything better to do. Eddie barely let you leave the house alone, he claimed Hawkins was too dangerous for you. It was somewhat true, you wouldn't say dangerous, but conversations always ended with the topic of Munson being your brother.  

You gave in and got up, prancing over to him, and plopping yourself down on the sofa. “So what's your test on, English, math–” You were rudely cut off by Eddie's hands grabbing your cheeks. “Mmm, I wanna study you for a bit first”, he purred, kissing your lips, just like when you were younger.

“Eddieeee”, you whined with smushed lips, using your manicured hands to push at his chest.“Get off me!”.

“You don't wanna have some fun?” he questioned, letting go of his grip on your face, his brown doe eyes staring at you, looking way too innocent for what he's saying.

You thought about it for a moment, like actually considered it. Eddie is handsome, his stupid big eyes and curly hair making him look so cute… You were more like lovers than siblings at this point, for fuck sake you shared a bed! It's not like Eddie hadn't jerked off in the same room as you before, gotten boners from spooning together, you really didn't have an excuse not to do this.

“But I've never–” you got cut off once again by Eddie pressing a finger to your lips.

“Just let me guide you, baby”, he shushed you, and peppered kisses all over your face, slowly trailing them down your neck. You whined into his kisses, and you felt your face flushing. All of this was becoming increasingly overwhelming.

You caressed his cheek, gently soothing your thumb over the pinkness that was showing, “Waitwait– I wanna um” with each word you paused, running your hand down his chest and stopping at his boxers.

Eddie blinked at you, his pupils dilated and his lips parted ever so slightly, his eyes flickering over your hands as they fumbled around shakily, freeing his aching half-hard cock. He was big and thick, you didn't even know where to start, or if your mouth would fit over his length.

You sank to your knees in front of him, resting your elbows against his thighs. You’ve never taken anything this big before. Sometimes, you’d suck off your dildo, but it’s nothing compared to this!

You gave his cock an experimental pump with one hand, and Eddie let out a breathy groan and smiled at you. His cock twitched in your hand, getting harder by the second.

“Fuck you're so cute”, he teased.

You looked up at him, eyes half lidded, you stuck your tongue out and ran it from his tip to base, running it over the prominent girthy vein as you went down. Eddie held back another moan, biting his lip, his eyes drowning in yours, like two paints mixing. 

His cock was warm with a slightly salty aftertaste. You started to lap at the pre-cum leaking out of his mushroomy tip—you took him in your mouth, slowly–very slowly, trying not to gag around his length.

Eddie let out a groan and put his hand on your head, resting it there for the time being.

You pulled off with a wet pop. “You’re really getting off to your sister, sucking you off?” 

“Don’t act all innocent, I bet if I flipped you over, you’d be soaking wet”, he purred. 

“Pervert”, you mumbled. He wasn’t wrong, your thighs felt sticky, and you had a strange feeling bubbling in your tummy. Intimacy was all very new to you.

You put your mouth over his cock again, sinking, you reached halfway until you started choking and needed air. Eddie’s grip on your head tightened, and he swiftly pushed you down further, bottoming out. Your eyes became watery, and you gagged at the feeling of his tip hitting the back of your throat.

“Lay your tongue flat, baby, it feels good like that”, he cooed in between shaky breaths.

You relaxed your mouth around his cock, you took deep breaths through your nostrils and glided your wet tongue gently around his base. Eddie let out a sharp groan and bucked his hips up, he was getting close.

He used both of his hands to fuck your head against his cock, using your body like an aggressive sex-doll. Your jaw ached from taking his length, your scalp burning from his grip. Every time he bottomed out, his pubes would tickle your nose, adding to the overstimulation.

With one big thrust, his hips stilled, and he cried out, filling your throat with his cum. You pried yourself off of his cock, coughing breathlessly, spilt and cum dribbling down the corners of your mouth and chin, the stickiness of it all making you gag.

Eddie was quick to stroke his thumb over your messy face, wiping some of the spend onto his boxers.

“Can you— give me a— a warning next time?” You sputtered out.

Eddie gave your head a pat, that cliche move every big brother does. “Sorry, sweetheart, I got carried away”

You figured all men were like this, horny, impatient and secretly having incestuous relationships with their sisters, boys will be boys.